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ALEXANDER  GOLDSTEIN 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 


THE  OLD  UNITED  STATES  COURT  BUILDING  IN 

SPRINGFIELD,  ON  THE  THIRD  FLOOR 

OF  WHICH  WAS  THE  OFFICE 

OF  LINCOLN  &  LOGAN 


THE  LINCOLN  HOUSE  AT  EIGHTH  AND  JACKSON  STREETS 
SPRINGFIELD 


LINCOLN 

IN  ILLINOIS 


BY   OCTAVIA    ROBERTS 

\> 

DRAWINGS  BY 
LESTER  G.  HORNBY 


BOSTON  tf  NEW  YORK 

HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 

MDCCCC  XVIII 


V 

* 


C  ^&'&\juv,\ 

COPYRIGHT,    1918,   BY  HOUGHTON   MIFFLIN  COMPANY 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 

Publishid  February  igi8 


THIS  SPECIAL  LARGE-PAPER  EDITION  IS  LIMITED 
TO  ONE  THOUSAND  COPIES 


Foreword 

HEN  I  was  a  little  girl  and  lived  in  Spring 
field,  Illinois,  I  knew  familiarly  a  large  group  of 
older  folk,  all  of  whom  had  known  Lincoln.  An 
uncle  had  stood  guard  over  his  bier,  an  aunt  had 
sung  at  his  funeral.  Many  of  my  grandfather's 
friends  had  been  Lincoln's  associates  at  the  bar. 
Others  had  played  cards  with  him  in  a  certain 
old  drug  store  that  still  remained.  The  younger 
of  the  older  men  of  the  town  had  been  "  Wide 
Awakes,"  and  had  marched  in  oilcloth  capes  in 
the  campaign  of  '61. 

The  women,  too,  had  their  recollections  of 
Lincoln.  They  had  been  to  his  house  to  call 
upon  his  wife,  to  attend  receptions.  A  certain 
old  lady  of  charming  presence  had  seen  him 
married  and,  on  demand,  could  give  interesting 
details  of  the  occasion.  The  oldest  of  them  all 
had  seen  him  pilot  the  Talisman  down  the 

v 


Foreword 

Sangamon,  and  remembered  well  that  no  one 
dreamed  of  inviting  him  to  the  ball  that  had 
celebrated  that  event. 

Springfield,  one  might  say,  was  permeated 
with  the  spirit  of  Lincoln.  The  house  where  I 
went  to  school  with  other  little  Springfield  girls 
was  the  house  in  which  he  had  been  married. 
The  desk  in  a  corridor  of  the  chief  hotel,  upon 
which  we  did  not  hesitate  to  perch  at  class 
dances,  had  been  Lincoln's.  The  house  where 
Lincoln  had  lived,  and  where  his  children  had 
been  born,  was  open  to  the  public.  One  took 
country  cousins  to  see  its  interior.  The  monu 
ment  where  he  slept  dominated  the  cemetery. 
The  bristling  groups  of  bronze  soldiers  at  the 
four  corners  of  the  shaft  were  of  endless  interest. 

The  Springfield  children  learned  to  know 
Lincoln,  therefore,  from  the  stories  of  his  neigh 
bors  and  through  his  association  with  various 
places,  long  before  they  knew  him  from  the 
histories.  It  was,  I  remember,  with  a  feeling  of 

vi 


Foreword 

surprise  that  I  came  upon  his  name  in  books. 
It  was  like  coming  upon  a  friend  of  every  day 
riding  in  a  barouche  behind  four  horses.  One 
preferred  the  friend  and  neighbor  in  a  linen 
duster,  a  market-basket  upon  his  arm.  More 
over,  the  histories  had  little  to  say  of  Spring 
field,  Lincoln's  home  for  twenty  years,  —  of 
Springfield,  which  seemed  to  us  his  proper 
backgrouad. 

It  is  of  the  everyday  Lincoln  and  his  Mid- 
Western  home  that  I  shall  attempt  to  write,  in 
the  hope  that  the  memories  treasured  by  his 
townsmen  may  not  be  wholly  without  interest 
to  a  wider  world. 

O.  R. 

BOSTON 
November  29,  1917 


THE  ROAD  ALONG  THE  SANGAMON  AT  NEW  SALEM 

OVER  WHICH  LINCOLN  WALKED  TO 

BORROW  LAW  BOOKS 


Contents 

I.  THE  TALISMAN i 

II.  NEW  SALEM 1 1 

III.  MOVES  TO  SPRINGFIELD  ....  29 

IV.  HOUSES  LINCOLN  KNEW.        ...  45 
V.  THE  LINCOLN  HOME       ....  63 

VI.  OLD  STATE  HOUSE 75 

VII.  LAST  DAYS  AT  HOME    .       .       .       .91 

VIII.  THE  FUNERAL 109 


STUART  6?  LINCOLN'S  OFFICE  OVER  THE  FURNITURE 
STORE,  SPRINGFIELD 


Illustrations 


THE  OLD  UNITED  STATES  COURT  BUILDING 
IN  SPRINGFIELD,  ON  THE  THIRD  FLOOR 
OF  WHICH  WAS  THE  OFFICE  OF  LlNCOLN 
&  LOGAN  

xi 


Illustrations 


THE  LINCOLN  HOUSE  AT  EIGHTH  AND 
JACKSON  STREETS,  SPRINGFIELD  .  Frontispiece 

THE  ROAD  ALONG  THE  SANGAMON  AT  NEW 
SALEM  OVER  WHICH  LINCOLN  WALKED 
TO  BORROW  LAW  BOOKS  ix 

STUART  &  LINCOLN'S  OFFICE  OVER  THE 
FURNITURE  STORE,  SPRINGFIELD  .  .  xi 

A  COUNTRY  COURT-HOUSE  WHERE  LINCOLN 
ATTENDED  COURT  (Mount  Pulaski,  Logan 
County,  Illinois} xiv 

ON  THE  SANGAMON  AT  NEW  SALEM      .       .        i 

THE  BEND  IN  THE  SANGAMON  AT  NEW 
SALEM  WHERE  THE  MILL  STOOD  IN  LIN 
COLN'S  TIME 6 

THE  TREE-SHADED  PATH,  NEW  SALEM         .      n 
THE  LITTLE  BRIDGE  AT  NEW  SALEM  .        .     22 

THE  STATE  HOUSE  DOME  FROM  EAST  CAP 
ITOL  STREET,  SPRINGFIELD  ....  29 

OLD  BUILDINGS  OF  LINCOLN'S  TIME  ON  THE 
WASHINGTON  STREET  SIDE  OF  THE  GREEN  34 

LITTLE  SHOPS  OF  OLD  SPRINGFIELD       .       .     42 
THE  ROBERT  IRWIN  HOUSE  ON  FIFTH  STREET     45 

THE  OWSLEY  HOUSE 50 

xii 


Illustrations 

THE  NINIAN  EDWARDS  HOUSE,  IN  WHICH 
LINCOLN  WAS  MARRIED  ....  54 

THE  BENJAMIN  EDWARDS  HOUSE    ...     58 
THE  GLOBE  HOTEL 63 

A  CORNER  OF  LINCOLN'S  SITTING-ROOM  IN 
THE  HOUSE  AT  EIGHTH  AND  JACKSON 
STREETS 66 

LINCOLN'S  PEW  IN  THE  FIRST  PRESBYTERIAN 
CHURCH 73 

THE  OLD  STATE  HOUSE 75 

THE  ROOM  IN  THE  OLD  STATE  HOUSE  MOST 
IDENTIFIED  WITH  LlNCOLN  .  .  .  78 

THE  STATION  WHERE  LINCOLN  DELIVERED 
HIS  FAREWELL  ADDRESS  TO  SPRINGFIELD  .  91 

HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  STATE  HOUSE, 
WHERE  LINCOLN  DELIVERED  HIS  "  HOUSE- 
DIVIDED-AGAINST-ITSELF"  SPEECH  .  .  94 

THE  GRAVE  OF  ANN  RUTLEDGE,  PETERSBURG   109 
THE  LINCOLN  MONUMENT  IN  SPRINGFIELD  .    118 


•t.f 


A  COUNTRY  COURT-HOUSE  WHERE  LINCOLN 

ATTENDED  COURT  (MOUNT  PULASKI, 

LOGAN  COUNTY,  ILLINOIS) 


I.  The  Talisman 


ON  THE  SANGAMON  AT  NEW  SALEM 


LINCOLN  IN  ILLINOIS 

I 

THE  TALISMAN 

1  HE  month  is  March  in  the  year  1832.  The 
scene  is  prairie  land  in  the  river  bottom  of  Illi 
nois.  When  the  spring  shall  give  place  to  sum 
mer,  the  prairie  will  be  covered  with  grass  so 
high  that  the  head  of  a  man  on  horseback  will 
be  barely  discernible :  but  to-day  a  man  on  foot 
can  be  seen  plainly,  from  the  crown  of  his 
«coon"-skin  cap  to  the  edge  of  his  buckskin 
breeches,  though  cap  and  feet  are  some  six  feet 
four  apart. 

The  man  who  strides  along  the  road  is  young 
—  twenty-three  years,  no  more.  He  is  lean  but 
wiry,  a  backwoodsman  every  inch  of  him.  A 
man  with  a  set  purpose  one  watching  him  would 
say,  as  he  strides  on  and  on  over  the  rough  road 

3 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

that  leads  to  a  pioneer  settlement  on  the  Illinois 
River,  called  Beardstown. 

Once  in  this  town,  he  mixes  sociably  with  the 
young  men ;  tells  them  that  he  has  come  from 
the  settlement  of  New  Salem,  on  the  bluffs  of 
the  Sangamon,  to  see  the  landing  of  the  Talis 
man,  a  steamboat  hourly  expected  from  Cincin 
nati  on  her  maiden  voyage  into  the  interior  of 
Illinois.  To  further  questions  he  answers  that 
he  was  born  in  Kentucky,  «  raised  "  in  Indiana ; 
and  that  he  has  but  recently  come  to  Illinois  to 
seek  his  fortune. 

When  at  last  the  steamer,  at  four  miles  an 
hour,  creeps  into  Beardstown  and  throws  out 
her  gangplank  amid  much  rejoicing,  the  young 
stranger  is  the  first  on  board.  He  seeks  out  the 
captain,  explains  that  he  has  recently  made  a 
voyage  from  New  Salem  to  New  Orleans  in  a 
flatboat  and  knows  the  Sangamon,  the  tributary 
stream  up  whose  waters  the  Talisman  next  pro 
poses  to  go,  as  few  men  can  claim  to  know  it ; 

4 


The  Talisman 

and  he  proposes  himself  as  pilot  to  guide  the 
steamboat  up  waters  that  only  the  hopeful  call 
navigable.  The  name  he  gives  the  captain  is  an 
unknown  one  —  Abraham  Lincoln.  The  bar 
gain  is  struck.  The  pilot's  pay  for  the  round 
trip  from  Beardstown  on  the  Illinois  to  Spring 
field  on  the  Sangamon  is  to  be  fifty  dollars. 
Abraham  Lincoln  takes  the  wheel. 

On  and  on  goes  the  Talisman,  creeping  down 
the  shallow  stream,  picking  its  way  among  the 
obtruding  snags  of  fallen  trees,  avoiding  the 
shallows.  If  the  young  riverman  can  make  this 
voyage,  the  promoters  of  the  expedition  believe 
that  the  markets  of  the  East  will  be  open  to 
Springfield  and  the  adjoining  settlements,  for 
freight  no  longer  will  have  to  be  hauled  over 
land  to  St.  Louis.  A  waterway  will  be  estab 
lished,  between  Cincinnati  and  Springfield, 
down  a  chain  of  rivers  of  which  the  Sangamon 
is  the  last. 

On  and  on  chugs  the  steamboat  in  the  bright 

5 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

March  weather,  past  groups  of  cheering  pio 
neers,  who,  lined  along  the  river's  bank, use  their 
axes  to  good  purpose  to  clear  obstructions  in 
the  way  of  the  first  and  only  steamboat  that  ever 
came  up  the  Sangamon. 

The  inspirer  of  the  expedition,  one  Captain 
Bogue,  a  mill-owner  on  the  Sangamon,  points 
out  his  mill  as  a  likely  landing-place ;  but  the 
crowd  on  the  shore  is  landmark  enough  to  the 
man  at  the  wheel,  who  has  dwelt  during  most 
of  his  twenty-three  years  in  lonely  places.  He 
looks  with  interest  at  the  group  of  men,  women, 
and  children  that  line  the  shore,  shouting  and 
cheering  in  their  delight  to  see  a  steamboat  come 
up  the  Sangamon.  Many  are  on  horseback,  but 
some — and  the  youth  notes  it  with  interest  pro 
found —  are  "flourishing  in  carriages."  One 
equipage  has  a  lemon-yellow  body,  black  leather 
top,  and  steps  covered  with  carpet  that  can  be 
lowered  for  a  lady's  descent.  Young  Lincoln 
had  not  seen  the  like  before. 

6 


f 


>,     "^ 


JMvy? 

fr~    'i|fW- 


THE  BEND  IN  THE  SANGAMON  AT  NEW  SALEM  WHERE 
THE  MILL  STOOD  IN  LINCOLN'S  TIME 


The  Talisman 

The  landing  safely  accomplished,  the  pas 
sengers,  the  captain,  and  the  crew  ride  into  town, 
to  Springfield,  two  miles  inland,  over  roads  that 
test  endurance.  There  they  receive  a  royal  wel 
come  that  finds  expression  in  a  public  ball  and 
private  hospitality.  Everywhere  the  occasion  is 
celebrated  with  toasts  and  with  song.  Down 
the  long  years  the  voices  float  to  us  from  the 
muddy,  straggling  street  of  the  town  and  from 
the  warm  interior  of  the  tavern, "  Indian  Queen." 
Some  local  rhymester  has  set  new  words  to  an 
old  tune,  and  they  take  the  public  fancy  and 
are  lustily  sung  during  the  week  in  which  the 
Talisman  remains :  — 

"  Oh,  Captain  Bogue,  he  gave  the  load, 

And  Captain  Bogue  he  showed  the  road, 
And  he  came  up  with  a  right  good  will 
And  tied  his  boat  up  to  his  mill. 

"  Now  we  are  up  the  Sangamaw 

And  sure  will  have  a  grand  hurrah, 
So  fill  your  glasses  to  the  brim 

With  whiskey,  brandy,  wine,  and  gin. 

7 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

"  Illinois  suckers,  young  and  raw, 

Were  strung  along  the  Sangamaw, 
To  see  the  boat  come  up  the  stream, 
They  surely  thought  it  was  a  dream." 

But  in  one  breast  the  song's  invitation  to  fill 
the  glass  meets  with  no  response ;  for  the  pilot, 
"A.  Lincoln,"  as  he  signs  himself,  does  not 
drink.  He  finds  stimulation  in  other  things, 
above  all  in  talk,  for  which  he  often  must  have 
been  hungry.  He  mixes  with  the  men,  swaps 
yarns,  of  which  he  has  picked  up  an  amazing 
store,  widens  his  acquaintance  materially ;  meets 
among  others  a  stripling  called  "  Bill "  Herndon. 

The  rustic  Lohengrin  has  no  premonition 
that  Springfield  is  to  be  his  future  home,  that 
young  Herndon  is  to  be  his  law  partner  and 
biographer.  For  him  the  present  doubtless  is 
all-sufficient.  He  has  earned  fifty  dollars.  He 
is  young,  strong,  and  lithe.  No  man  in  his  set 
tlement  is  his  physical  equal.  Life  opens  before 
him.  He  joins  in  the  nonsense  with  the  rest :  — 

8 


The  Talisman 

"  Illinois  suckers,  young  and  raw, 

Were  strung  along  the  Sangamaw, 
To  see  the  boat  come  up  the  stream, 
They  surely  thought  it  was  a  dream." 

The  song  reminds  him  of  a  story.  The  crowd 
guffaws.  It  likes  his  mimicry  and  his  humor. 
"Who  is  that  long-legged  fellow,  anyway?" 
some  one  asks.  The  answer  is :  "  A  storekeeper 
from  New  Salem.  He 's  just  come  out  for  the 
Legislature." 


II.  New  Salem 


THE  TREE-SHADED  PATH,  NEW  SALEM 


II 

NEW  SALEM 

IN  the  autumn  of  the  year  that  had  seen  the 
Talisman  come  up  the  Sangamon,  the  young 
pilot  of  that  expedition  met  political  defeat. 
And,  as  he  himself  once  said  long  afterwards 
in  a  campaign  document,  it  was  the  only  time 
he  was  ever  beaten  by  the  people. 

Probably  he  found  what  consolation  he  could 
in  the  reflection  that  during  the  long  summer, 
when  the  other  candidates  were  free  to  cam 
paign  in  their  own  interests,  he  was  far  away 
from  his  county,  serving  as  captain  of  militia  in 
a  scrimmage  dubbed  the  Black  Hawk  War. 

In  one  of  his  few  public  utterances  before 
his  military  duties  took  him  from  Sangamon,  he 
had  said:  "I  am  young  and  unknown;  I  was 
born  and  have  ever  remained  in  the  most  humble 
walk  of  life.  .  . .  If  the  good  people  in  their  wis- 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

dom  shall  see  fit  to  keep  me  in  the  background, 
I  have  been  too  familiar  with  disappointments 
to  be  very  much  chagrined." 

It  was  probably  in  the  spirit  of  these  words 
that  Lincoln  returned  to  New  Salem  and  re 
sumed  his  occupation  of  storekeeper,  buying 
out  one  of  the  other  merchants  and  entering 
into  a  partnership  with  a  man  named  Berry.  If 
he  had  been  successful  in  this  venture,  he  might 
have  remained  a  country  merchant,  respected 
by  his  customers  as  a  genial,  honest  man. 

But  Fortune  had  her  eye  on  this  young  pi 
oneer,  with  his  quick  wit,  his  analytical  mind, 
his  dogged  perseverance.  In  spite  of  many  dis 
appointments  shehad  let  him  suffer  in  his  twenty- 
six  years,  she  had  no  notion  of  forever  "  keeping 
him  in  the  background."  A  copy  of  Blackstone 
in  a  barrel  of  rubbish  was  enough  for  her  pur 
poses.  Young  Lincoln  came  upon  it  there, 
turned  the  pages,  cocked  his  feet  above  his  head 
and  began  to  read. 

14 


New  Salem 

Occasionally  a  customer  dropped  in,  inter 
rupting  the  reading  and  breaking  the  dreams 
that  sprang  from  the  perusal  of  those  tattered 
old  pages.  When  the  customer  left  with  his  pur 
chases  of  cotton  chain  and  brown  calico  under 
his  arm,  the  dreams  sprang  again  into  being,  re 
solving  themselves  into  a  persistent  question: 
"  Could  a  man  with  scant  education,  no  money, 
in  debt,  aspire  to  become  a  lawyer?" 

"  I  was  born  and  have  ever  remained  in  the 
most  humble  walk  of  life,"  the  dreamer  had  said 
to  the  voters.  He  had  but  to  drop  his  eyes  to  his 
toil-worn  hands  to  know  how  true  were  his  words. 
With  those  hands  he  could  pitch  more  hay  than 
any  man  in  the  vicinity.  He  could  lift  heavier 
burdens.  His  calloused  palms  and  his  great 
strength  seemed  to  say  that  manual  labor  was 
his  natural  destiny.  At  this  point  he  would  put 
on  his  hat  and  go  down  the  one  little  street  of 
New  Salem  in  search  of  his  friend,  Jonathan 
Miller,  the  blacksmith,  to  discuss  with  him  the 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

relative  advantages  of  blacksmithing  and  the 
law. 

While  they  two  sit  before  the  forge,  debat 
ing  the  momentous  question,  let  us  look  down 
the  straggling  street  of  cabins  and  make  the 
acquaintance  of  some  of  the  good  men  and 
women  who  were  the  early  friends  and  neigh 
bors  of  young  Abraham  Lincoln. 

In  the  last  cabin  of  the  line,  a  double  log 
house,  we  find  Jack  Kelso  and  his  wife.  Lover 
of  the  woods  and  streams  is  Kelso.  He  knows 
the  spots  where  the  black  perch  bite  best,  the 
trees  where  honey  is  stored.  He  can  sit  all  day 
with  his  fishing-rod  in  hand  and  quote  Burns 
and  Shakespeare.  Lincoln  learns  these  poets 
from  his  lips. 

To  the  right,  near  the  Springfield  road,  the 
good  doctor  lives.  A  stern  believer  in  temper 
ance  is  Dr.  Allen,  an  earnest  religious  zealot  in  a 
community  that  had  none  too  much  of  religion. 
Near  Dr.  Allen  lives  Alexander  Ferguson,  the 

16 


New  Salem 

shoemaker ;  Martin  Waddle,  the  village  hatter ; 
Henry  Onstot,  the  cooper.  A  stone's-throw 
away  stands  the  two-story  log  cabin  where  Lin 
coln  boards  and  lodges. 

The  landlord,  James  Rutledge,  and  his  wife 
and  many  children  treat  Lincoln  more  like  a 
member  of  the  family  than  a  boarder.  One  of 
the  daughters,  Anne  May,  is  destined  to  be  im 
mortalized  in  song  and  story  as  the  beloved  of 
Abraham  Lincoln. 

A  graceful  young  figure  she  makes,  in  her 
homespun  dress  and  moccasins,  moving  to  and 
fro  in  the  dim  interior  of  the  log  house  or  bend 
ing  over  the  open  fire  baking  the  cornbread  for 
the  tavern's  guests.  She  had  auburn  hair  and 
blue  eyes  and  a  sweet,  fresh  young  voice.  Often 
Lincoln  and  the  other  young  men  must  have 
heard  her  singing  at  her  work. 

On  the  bank  below  New  Salem,  near  where 
the  mill  grinds  the  grain,  the  schoolmaster,  Men 
tor  Graham,  lives.  He  is  destined  to  lend  a  help- 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

ing  hand  to  ambition.  Under  his  charge,  Lincoln 
studies  Kirkham's  Grammar,  learns  how  to  frame 
sentences  —  knowledge  that  shall  one  day  bear 
fruit  in  a  Gettysburg  address. 

A  mile  down  the  river  dwells  another  good 
friend,  Boiling  Green,  the  squire,  great  of  girth 
and  great  of  heart.  His  buckskin  latchstring  is 
always  ready  to  Lincoln's  hand ;  a  place  awaits 
him  at  the  hospitable  board. 

Two  years  pass,  in  which  Abraham  Lincoln 
slowly  makes  his  way.  In  his  twenty-fourth 
year  he  is  appointed  postmaster  and  thereafter 
he  distributes  New  Salem's  mail  twice  a  week. 
He  is  dressed  usually  in  flax  and  tow-linen  panta 
loons  "  about  five  inches  too  short  in  the  legs," 
upheld,  frequently,  by  one  suspender.  A  cal 
ico  shirt,  coarse  brogans,  and  blue  yarn  socks 
complete  his  costume. 

The  salary  of  the  postmaster  is  as  much  too 
short  for  his  needs  as  the  tow  and  flax  panta- 

18 


New  Salem 

loons  for  his  long  legs.  He  therefore  welcomes 
a  chance  which  presents  itself  to  assist  the  county 
surveyor,  John  Calhoun.  The  pay  promised  the 
assistant,  if  he  can  master  the  principles  of  sur 
veying,  seems  colossal  —  three  dollars  a  day, 
the  price  of  three  weeks1  board  or  of  an  acre 
and  a  half  of  rich  land ! 

In  his  need  of  instruction,  Lincoln  well  knows 
where  to  turn.  He  takes  his  problem  to  that 
good  Yankee  school-teacher,  Mentor  Graham, 
who  had  helped  him  master  KirkhanVs  Gram 
mar.  The  pupil  and  the  teacher  for  weeks  bend 
over  the  books  far  into  the  night.  The  only  time 
they  look  up  from  the  work  is  when  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  reminds  them  that  the  wood  is  running 
low. 

In  the  mean  time  Lincoln  &  Berry's  general 
store  has  been  rapidly  sinking  to  extinction.  Its 
collapse  leaves  Lincoln  stranded  in  debt,  the 
obligation  of  which  he  is  doomed  to  bear  alone, 
as  Berry,  his  worthless  partner,  dies  soon  after 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

the  failure.  And  the  burden  is  added  to,  in  the 
beginning  at  least,  by  the  necessities  of  the  new 
position ;  for  to  be  a  deputy  surveyor — although 
the  new  profession  will  yield  three  dollars  a  day 
— will  entail  fresh  expense:  a  horse  will  have 
to  be  bought,  instruments  will  have  to  be  pur 
chased  ;  and,  as  yet,  Lincoln  can  pay  for  these 
things  only  in  promises. 

His  promises  seem  to  be  good,  however. 
He  obtains  the  necessary  equipment,  and  from 
this  time  on  works  under  Calhoun,  enjoying,  we 
can  safely  guess,  the  society  of  the  man  as  much 
as  he  did  the  work  in  his  new  profession.  For 
Calhoun,  like  Mentor  Graham,  is  a  person  of 
some  culture.  He  has  studied  law,  taught  school, 
and  is  quick  and  able  in  debate.  Long  years 
after,  when  Abraham  Lincoln  was  measuring 
wits  with  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  —  the  idol  of  Il 
linois,  —  he  told  a  friend  that  he  was  less  afraid 
of  debating  with  Douglas  than  he  was  of  doing 
so  with  the  comparatively  unknown  John  Cal- 

20 


New  Salem 

houn.  "  For  Douglas  will  equivocate  and  Cal- 
houn  will  not,"  he  explained.  And  one  of  the 
pictures  New  Salem  yields  to  us  is  Lincoln  with 
Calhoun,  this  man  who  would  not  deceive,  at 
work  together.  Boundaries  were  safe  in  the  care 
of  these  two. 

But  New  Salem  is  so  rich  in  pictures  of  that 
early,  formative  period  of  Lincoln's  life  that,  turn 
our  eyes  as  we  may,  we  are  rewarded  by  some 
new  vision  of  him.  Even  the  roads  have  their 
memories.  On  the  highway  between  New  Sa 
lem  and  Springfield  how  often  he  could  be  seen 
trudging  to  and  fro  on  the  long  walk  to  the  larger 
settlement.  After  the  purchase  of  his  horse,  he 
could  cover  the  miles  more  swiftly.  It  was  when 
he  was  mounted  that  he  overtook  a  stranger  on 
a  much-jaded  horse  about  fourteen  miles  from 
Springfield.  They  fell  into  conversation  and 
Lincoln  learned  that  the  stranger  was  hastening 
to  the  Land  Office  in  Springfield  to  enter  his 
land  before  a  false  friend,  who  was  close  behind, 

21 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

could  put  in  a  prior  claim.  In  a  moment  Lincoln 
was  off  his  horse  and  had  exchanged  with  the 
chance  acquaintance,  who,  with  a  fresh  mount, 
rode  off  joyfully,  to  succeed  in  his  errand.  This 
oft-quoted  story  must  in  justice  be  said  to  il 
lustrate  the  general  good-will  between  men  in 
sparsely  settled  regions  quite  as  much  as  it  does 
the  kindly,  quick  sympathy  that  beat  under  a 
certain  homespun  shirt. 

Another  New  Salem  road,  not  definitely  iden 
tified,  gives  us  an  amusing  picture  of  young 
Lincoln,  illustrative  of  other  traits.  This  time  he 
is  on  a  pleasure  party.  A  company  of  young  vil 
lage  people  ride  together,  each  girl  boasting  an 
eager,  attentive  escort.  A  Miss  Owen,  a  visitor 
from  Kentucky,  had  fallen  to  Lincoln's  share. 
When  the  party  were  forced  to  cross  a  certain 
branch  of  the  river,  the  young  men  embraced  the 
opportunity  to  assist  the  girls  in  every  possible 
way.  Lincoln  alone  offered  no  such  gallantry. 
The  visiting  Miss  Owen,  much  incensed,  said  to 

22 


THE  LITTLE  BRIDGE  AT  NEW  SALEM 


New  Salem 

him,  when  he  joined  her  after  her  scrabble  over 
the  branch,  "You  are  a  nice  fellow.  I  suppose 
you  did  not  care  whether  my  neck  was  broken 
or  not."  "  I  knew  you  were  plenty  smart,"  said 
Lincoln  honestly,  "to  take  care  of  yourself." 

He  paid  women  in  general  the  compliment  of 
"  being  plenty  smart  to  look  after  themselves  " ; 
for  in  a  letter  published  in  the  Sangamon  "Jour 
nal  "  in  1836,  he  stated  boldly  that  he  believed 
in  admitting  all  whites  to  the  «  right  of  suffrage 
who  pay  taxes  or  bear  arms  (by  no  means  ex 
cluding  females)."  He  was  at  the  time  of  this 
utterance  already  a  legislator,  having  in  a  second 
attempt  won  that  distinction.  The  rise  in  the 
world  entailed,  as  each  upward  step  had  always 
entailed  for  him,  yet  more  debt.  He  was  forced 
to  borrow  two  hundred  dollars  in  order  to  travel 
decently  by  coach,  dressed  in  proper  attire,to  the 
scene  of  his  new  labors. 

On  his  return  to  New  Salem  from  the  State 
capital,  Vandalia,  he  was  greeted  as  a  coming 

23 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

man  —  he  who  had  climbed  up  that  steep  river- 
bank  such  a  short  while  since,  an  unknown  la 
borer  on  a  flatboat.  There  was  no  more  talk  now 
of  being  a  blacksmith.  Toil  there  was  to  be  for 
him  in  plenty,  but  never  again  was  he  to  earn  his 
bread  with  his  hands.  Eighteen  years  later  he  was 
telling  the  people :  "  There  is  no  permanent  class 
of  hired  labor  among  us.  Twenty-five  years  ago, 
I  was  a  hired  laborer.  .  .  .  Free  labor  has  the  in 
spiration  of  hope." 

Perhaps  it  is  because  Lincoln's  story  is  over 
full  of  discouragements  and  hardships  that  the 
biographers  have  lingered  over  a  few  months  of 
happiness  that  Fate  at  last  gave  to  him.  He  had 
long  known  Anne  Rutledge,  the  young  daugh 
ter  of  the  tavern-keeper.  He  had  known  her  as 
one  knows  a  sister  in  the  intimacy  of  family  life. 
He  had  known  her  as  a  young  girl  sought  by 
other  men.  One  of  them,  a  hard-headed  young 
business  man  named  McNamar, "  with  no  more 
poetry  than  the  multiplication  table,"  had  won 

24 


New  Salem 

her  promise  to  be  his  wife.  It  was  this  same  man 
to  whom  Lincoln  had  once  turned  to  correct  the 
most  glaring  flaws  in  an  early  political  speech. 
McNamar  had  left  New  Salem  promising  to 
write  and  to  return  soon.  Time  had  gone  on  and 
he  had  not  kept  either  promise.  We  can  well  im 
agine  that  the  tender  heart  of  the  young  post 
master  must  have  ached  for  the  girl  when  the 
, weekly  mails  came  in  without  the  letters  for 
which  she  waited  in  vain.  From  comforter  he 
must  have  drifted  insensibly  to  lover.  In  time  his 
love  was  returned.  Tradition  gives  us  many  a 
picture  of  the  two :  Anne  at  the  quilting  frame, 
Anne  at  the  spinning  wheel,  Anne  sweetly  sing 
ing  hymns,  Lincoln  ever  near.  Sometimes,  by 
the  light  of  the  fire,  they  would  bend  over  the 
precious  Kirkham's  Grammar.  One  night  Lin 
coln  wrote  on  the  title-page  in  his  clear  hand, 
"  Anne  M.  Rutledge  is  now  learning  grammar." 
The  old  book  is  still  treasured  by  Anne's  family, 
the  name  on  the  title-page  still  legible. 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

The  heat  of  the  prairies  can  be  pitiless.  In  the 
year  1835  the  rain  fell  unceasingly,  without 
cooling  the  air.  Heat  and  rain  were  followed  by 
a  steam  that  seemed  to  exude  from  the  earth's 
pores.  The  pioneers  in  the  river  bottoms  shook 
and  burned  alternately  with  "  fever  and  ague." 
In  New  Salem  good  Dr.  Allen  went  from  cabin 
to  cabin  ministering  to  the  sick.  Among  those  he 
could  not  save  was  young  Anne  Rutledge.  One 
hot  August  day  her  neighbors  laid  her  to  rest  in 
the  pine  coffin  some  one  of  the  pioneers  had 
fashioned. 

It  was  Lincoln's  first  great  grief.  Dr.  Allen 
found  him  broken  with  sorrow,  shaking  with 
chills  and  fever,  and  sent  him  to  the  good  squire, 
Boiling  Green,  under  whose  hospitable  roof  he 
was  nursed  back  to  health. 

The  euphonious  name,  over  whose  syllables 
Lincoln's  pen  must  have  lingered  lovingly  when 
he  wrote  it  in  the  old  grammar,  is  all  that  is  en 
graved  on  the  boulder  that  marks  the  young 

26 


New  Salem 

girl's  grave.  Near  by  a  birch  tree  is  growing.  To 
the  pilgrim,  as  he  glances  back  over  his  shoulder 
at  the  quiet  spot,  the  birch,  white  and  slender,  is 
no  unfitting  reminder  of  the  bride  who  was  never 
to  be. 

Over  eighty  momentous  years  have  passed 
since  that  sultry  August.  New  Salem  has  long 
since  vanished  from  the  earth.  The  traveler  who 
climbs  the  clay  bank  of  the  Sangamon  in  search 
of  the  lost  town,  finds  nothing  more,  upon  reach 
ing  the  summit,  than  a  deserted  field,  half  wood 
land,  half  pasture.  Of  the  cabins  nothing  is  left 
but  a  few  depressions  among  the  briers.  Down 
the  street,  where  Kelso  used  to  come  whistling 
home  with  his  catch  of  fish,  a  drove  of  horses 
crop  the  long  grass.  The  silence  is  deep,  broken 
only  by  the  call  of  a  blue  jay. 

And  yet  to  the  lover  of  Lincoln  this  forsaken 
field  speaks  of  him  now  and  always ;  for  here,  in 
the  span  of  these  few  acres,  he  passed  the  form- 

27 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

ative  years  of  his  life.  Here  he  found  friends 
who  helped  him  start  on  his  long  upward  way, 
giving  him  work,  lending  him  books  and  money, 
endorsing  him  for  postmaster,  sending  him  to  the 
Legislature,  and  encouraging  him  by  their  almost 
unanimous  vote.  Well  may  the  horses  stray  down 
the  lost  village  street.  Well  may  the  jay  build  her 
nest  in  the  crotch  of  the  tree  where  Lincoln's 
store  once  stood.  New  Salem' s  work  was  done ! 


III.  Moves  to  Springfield 


THE  STATE  HOUSE  DOME  FROM  EAST  CAPITOL 
STREET,  SPRINGFIELD 


Ill 

MOVES  TO  SPRINGFIELD 

WHEN  New  Salem  helped  to  send  Abraham 
Lincoln  to  the  State  Legislature,  the  sessions  were 
held  in  Vandalia,  a  town  on  the  western  border 
line  of  Illinois.  It  was  generally  agreed  that  a 
more  central  location  for  the  capital  was  desir 
able  ;  whereupon  a  bitter  contest  began  for  that 
honor,  between  a  circle  of  prairie  towns.  That 
Springfield  was  chosen  was  due  largely  to  Abra 
ham  Lincoln  and  eight  of  his  colleagues,  nick 
named  for  their  stature  "  The  Long  Nine." 

It  was  natural  that  Lincoln  should  favor 
Springfield.  It  was  situated  conveniently  near 
New  Salem.  It  was  the  home  of  an  ever-increas 
ing  group  of  new-made  but  valuable  friends. 
Major  Stuart,  a  lawyer  of  Kentucky  birth,  had 
been  especially  kind,  lending  his  young  friend 
law  books  and  encouraging  his  ambition  to  enter 

31 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

the  bar.  William  Butler,  a  Springfield  citizen, 
was  another  new  friend.  Simeon  Francis,  the  ed 
itor  of  the  leading  Whig  newspaper,  had  shown 
more  than  a  passing  interest  when,  self-intro 
duced,  Lincoln  had  walked  from  New  Salem 
to  present  himself  in  the  editorial  office.  These 
men  and  others  were  all  using  their  utmost  in 
fluence  to  make  Springfield  the  capital,  so  that 
by  joining  in  their  campaign,  Lincoln  was  not 
only  serving  his  own  ends,  but  helping  his  good 
friends  as  well. 

In  the  year  1836,  when  Lincoln  was  in  the 
twenty-seventh  year  of  his  age  and  his  second 
term  in  the  Legislature,  Springfield  won  the  vic 
tory  and  became  the  permanent  capital  of  Il 
linois.  It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  welcome  which 
awaited  the  men  who  were  responsible  for  the 
town's  good  fortune.  As  an  entertainment,  not 
even  the  ball  that  was  given  in  honor  of  the  ar 
rival  of  the  Talisman  had  surpassed  the  banquet 
now  given  "The  Long  Nine."  The  pilot  Lincoln, 

32 


Moves  to  Springfield 

in  his  buckskin  breeches,  so  shrunken  that  they 
did  not  meet  his  socks  by  several  inches,  had  not 
been  invited  to  the  ball ;  but  in  the  four  years 
that  had  intervened  since  that  day,  Lincoln  the 
legislator,  in  his  "  mixed  jeans  coat,  clawhammer 
style,  flax  and  tow-linen  pantaloons  and  pot- 
metal  boots,"  had  been  making  his  way  upward 
in  the  world.  Consequently  there  was  no  more 
honored  guest  at  the  banquet  at  the  Rural  Hotel 
than  the  young  legislator,  "  A.  Lincoln,  mem 
ber  from  Sangamon." 

It  was  not  long  after  this  public  rejoicing  that 
Lincoln,  his  entire  possessions  in  his  saddlebag, 
came  to  Springfield  to  live.  A  few  months  pre 
vious  he  had  been  admitted  to  the  bar,  so  that 
a  change  of  residence  was  a  necessity,  as  New 
Salem,  flickering  to  its  end,  offered  no  future  to 
ambition. 

The  Springfield  that  awaited  Lincoln  in '  3  7 
was  a  country  town  boasting  less  than  two  thou 
sand  inhabitants.  It  was  built,  in  good  Western 

33 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

fashion,  about  an  open  square,  its  mathematical 
center.  This  square  was  destined  to  hold  the 
future  State  House.  The  streets  of  the  town  were 
laid  out  about  the  square  with  the  accuracy  of 
a  checkerboard.  They  were  unpaved,  and  in 
bad  weather  wagons  sunk  to  their  hubs  in  the 
black,  sticky  mire.  Sometimes  as  many  as  a 
dozen  overshoes  were  left  sticking  in  the  mud 
to  show  where  ladies  had  attempted  to  pick  their 
way  over  the  crossings. 

When  the  mud  would  permit,  the  young  peo 
ple  of  the  town  used  to  form  in  a  procession 
nightly,  every  girl's  arm  tucked  securely  in  that 
of  a  "  beau,"  and  thus  mated,  walk  in  the  twi 
light  down  the  cow  paths.  The  men  so  out 
numbered  the  girls  that  very  small  maidens  were 
sometimes  pressed  into  service.  Later,  when  the 
twilight  died,  girls  would  place  lighted  candles 
in  their  windows  as  signals  that  they  were  at 
home  to  such  of  the  beaux  as  cared  to  seek  their 
society. 

34 


OLD  BUILDINGS  OF  LINCOLN'S  TIME  ON  THE  WASHINGTON 
STREET  SIDE  OF  THE  GREEN 


Moves  to  Springfield 

Around  the  central  green  of  the  town,  a  row 
of  two-story  buildings  straggled.  On  the  lower 
floors  of  these,  the  merchants  and  bankers  trans 
acted  business.  The  lofts  were  used  for  family 
residences  or  for  the  offices  of  the  professional 
men.  In  one  of  these  upper  rooms  Lincoln  com 
menced  the  practice  of  law  as  the  junior  part 
ner  of  Major  Stuart.  In  still  another  he  found 
lodging  with  Joshua  Speed,  a  young  merchant 
of  the  town. 

On  the  day  Lincoln  was  admitted  to  the  bar, 
he  went  to  Speed's  store  of  general  merchandise 
to  ask  for  sufficient  credit  to  buy  a  bed  and  its 
furnishings. 

"  If  my  experiment  as  a  lawyer  is  a  success," 
he  said,  "  I  will  pay  you  by  Christmas.  If  I  fail, 
I  do  not  know  that  I  can  ever  pay  you." 

Joshua  Speed  had  but  a  slight  acquaintance 
with  this  sad-faced,  honest  customer;  but  he 
knew  of  him  favorably  by  hearsay  as  a  "  won 
derful  character"  who  could  "outwrestle  any 

35 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

man  in  the  county  "  and  who  could  "  beat  any 
lawyer  in  Springfield  speaking." 

Speed  spoke  impulsively,  with  generous 
ardor. 

"  I  have  a  large  room  upstairs,"  he  said, 
"  with  a  double  bed  which  you  are  welcome  to 
share  with  me."  And  this,  as  a  contemporary 
explained, "  because  Speed  was  a  Kentucky  gen 
tleman." 

Lincoln  returned  that  courtesy  of  "  the  Ken 
tucky  gentleman  "  with  a  lifelong  devotion.  To 
Speed  and  to  Speed  only  he  confided  his  inner 
most  feelings.  In  the  letters  that  have  come  down 
to  us,  those  to  Speed  are  the  only  ones  in  which 
we  find  record  of  Lincoln's  private  life.  To  Speed 
he  wrote  of  the  troubled  course  of  his  betrothal 
to  that  woman  who  afterwards  became  his  wife ; 
after  his  marriage  it  was  to  Speed  he  wrote  of 
his  children.  Not  even  the  strain  of  opposite  po 
litical  beliefs  as  to  the  burning  question  of  the 
extension  of  slavery  could  shake  their  friendship. 

36 


Moves  to  Springfield 

Lincoln  could  always  sign  himself,  "  I  am  your 
friend  forever."  When  he  was  President  and 
uneasy  over  Kentucky's  loyalty  to  the  Union,  it 
was  to  that  tried  and  true  old  friend  he  turned. 
Again  and  again  Speed  was  summoned  to  Wash 
ington.  He  had  as  much  to  do  as  any  man  with 
keeping  Kentucky  from  secession.  And  for  his 
services  Speed  asked  nothing  for  himself.  He 
continued  to  live  out  his  days  in  Kentucky  as  an 
unassuming  business  man,  "  fond  of  flowers," 
they  say,  and  "  with  a  vein  of  sentiment." 

But  these  days  are  all  to  come.  Speed  and 
Lincoln  we  are  looking  upon  in  their  youth, 
lodging  together  like  brothers  over  Speed's  gen 
eral  store.  In  the  evening  they  keep  open  house 
in  the  store  itself.  Here  around  the  open  fire 
in  the  rear  all  the  young  men  of  the  town  were 
prone  to  drop  in  to  enjoy  vigorous  debates  upon 
the  live  subjects  of  their  day. 

Our  picture  of  this  group  would  not  be  com 
plete  if  we  did  not  single  out  for  particular 

37 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

mention  a  young  man,  several  years  Lincoln's 
junior,  as  short  as  Lincoln  is  tall,  a  young  man 
equally  ambitious,  with  piercing  blue  eyes,  a 
wealth  of  thick  curling  hair  and  a  leonine  car 
riage  of  the  head.  He  has  been  a  fellow  legis 
lator  with  Lincoln  in  the  Vandalia  days,  though 
as  strong  a  Democrat  as  Lincoln  was  a  Whig. 
At  present  he  holds  the  position  of  Register  of 
the  Land  Office.  His  name  is  Stephen  A.  Doug 
las.  We  shall  hear  of  him  again. 

These  young  men  of  Springfield,  around 
Speed's  fire,  are  the  whetstones  upon  which 
two  of  the  group  are  unconsciously  sharpening 
the  mental  weapons  they  shall  draw  against  each 
other  in  days  that  are  still  to  come.  An  evening 
of  these  debates  would  leave  Speed  and  Lincoln 
still  glowing,  as,  after  covering  the  embers  of 
the  fire,  they  made  their  way  to  their  cold  bed 
in  the  loft  above. 

Later  the  two  friends  exchanged  these  crude 
quarters  for  a  comfortable  room  in  the  private 

38 


Moves  to  Springfield 

house  of  William  Butler,  a  prominent  citizen 
of  the  town,  and  Lincoln  lived  on  here  after 
Speed  had  given  up  his  store  and  returned  to 
his  Kentucky  home.  The  children  of  the  But 
ler  family  remembered  him  as  a  delightful  friend, 
always  willing  to  toss  boys  and  girls  high  up  in 
the  air  in  his  sinewy  young  arms.  When  the 
oldest  of  them  came  down  to  breakfast  in  the 
morning  Lincoln  was  usually  to  be  found,  warm 
ing  himself  before  the  comfortable  glow  of  a 
Franklin  stove,  engrossed  in  the  works  of  Wil 
liam  Wirt.  It  was  out  of  compliment  to  this  in 
terest  that  one  of  the  Butler  children  was  named 
after  the  famous  jurist.  Another  boy  was  named 
Speed.  The  two  perpetuated  the  memory  of 
the  friendship  of  the  two  young  men  sheltered 
under  this  hospitable  roof. 

It  was  before  this  time,  in  the  very  early  days 
after  Lincoln's  removal  to  Springfield,  that  he 
wrote  to  Mary  Owen,  that  young  woman  whom 
he  had  failed  to  help  over  the  branch  at  New 

39 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

Salem :  "  This  living  in  Springfield  is  a  dull  busi 
ness  after  all,  at  least  it  is  to  me.  I  am  quite  as 
lonesome  here  as  I  ever  was  in  my  life.  I  have 
been  spoken  to  by  but  one  woman  since  I  have 
been  here,  and  should  not  have  been  by  her  if 
she  could  have  avoided  it.  I  have  never  been  to 
church  yet  and  probably  shall  not  be  soon.  I 
stay  away  because  I  am  conscious  I  should  not 
know  how  to  behave." 

Lincoln's  social  deportment,  never  his  strong 
point,  it  must  be  admitted,  was  at  this  early  day 
sadly  deficient.  Poor,  awkward,  badly  dressed, 
without  the  graces  that  appeal  to  women,  no 
candle  flickered  its  evening  welcome  to  him. 

It  was  either  just  before  or  just  after  he  carne 
to  Springfield  to  live  that  Lincoln  went  to  an 
evening  party  at  Simeon  Francis's,  the  social 
polish,  of  which  he  felt  the  lack,  still  unmas- 
tered.  Editor  Francis  lived  on  the  northern  out 
skirts  of  the  town  in  a  comfortable  house  which 
stood  in  a  spacious  lot  that  boasted  a  flower 

40 


Moves  to  Springfield 

garden.  In  central  Illinois,  with  its  summers  of 
scorching  heat,  gardens  are  not  now  common. 
In  that  early  day  the  shrubs  and  flowers  of  the 
editor's  garden  were  a  matter  of  local  wonder 
and  pride.  We  can  picture  young  Lincoln, 
therefore,  on  the  night  of  Simeon  Francis's  party 
approaching  this  somewhat  imposing  place  with 
feelings  of  mingled  interest  and  timidity. 

He  pushes  open  the  garden  gate,  and  walks 
up  the  path  to  the  door  between  the  shrubs  and 
flowers.  A  friend  of  Editor  Francis  answers  for 
the  remainder  of  the  story.  The  door  opens, 
Lincoln  bows  his  head  and  enters.  He  hears 
laughter  from  within,  the  deep  voices  of  men, 
the  lighter  voices  of  women.  He  catches  sight 
of  curls  and  ribbons,  hears  the  swish  of  silk. 
Divining  the  countryman's  embarrassment,  Ed 
itor  Francis  hastens  forward.  His  kind  glance 
lights  on  Lincoln's  face  with  its  habitual  expres 
sion  of  melancholy,  then  on  his  hat  which  still 
securely  rests  on  his  head.  The  editor  smiles, 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

and  holds  out  his  hand  for  this  offending  arti 
cle.  Lincoln  smiles,  too,  and  the  smile  lights  up 
his  plain  face  until  it  glows  with  warmth  and 
life,  as  he  places  his  hand  in  that  of  his  host  with 
a  clasp  firm  and  cordial,  his  hat  still  resting  on 
his  dark  hair !  So  he  makes  his  debut  into  Spring 
field  society. 

The  Springfield  which  Lincoln  knew  has 
disappeared  almost  as  completely  as  the  New 
Salem  which  he  left  behind  him.  In  Spring 
field,  now  grown  into  a  city  of  fifty  thousand 
inhabitants,  progress  has  been  as  destructive  as 
nature.  The  building  in  whose  second  story 
Stuart  &  Lincoln  had  their  offices,  and  that  other 
where  Joshua  Speed  and  Lincoln  sat  before  the 
open  fire  of  the  store,  are  no  longer  in  existence. 
The  house  of  William  Butler,  where  Lincoln 
lived  after  Speed  had  returned  to  Kentucky,  has 
also  gone  its  way.  The  house  of  Simeon  Fran 
cis,  with  its  shrubs  and  roses,  has  given  place 

42 


LITTLE  SHOPS  OF  OLD  SPRINGFIELD 


Moves  to  Springfield 

to  a  theater  which  claims  that  corner  of  the  town. 
We  may  wander  around  the  square,  now  neatly 
paved  with  brick,  and,  save  for  the  old  State 
House,  look  in  vain  for  any  of  the  landmarks 
that  were  in  Lincoln's  time.  It  is  true,  they  say, 
that  here  and  there  the  walls  of  some  of  the  old 
buildings  still  stand,  but  in  the  Western  passion 
to  be  abreast  of  the  time  fronts  have  been  torn 
away  and  replaced  twice  and  thrice.  Glittering 
plate-glass  windows,  new  doors,  added  stories, 
have  so  changed  the  appearance  of  the  streets 
that  Lincoln  knew,  that  he  himself  might  well 
feel  lost  should  his  astral  form  visit  these  scenes. 


IV.  Houses  Lincoln  Knew 


IT 

THE  ROBERT  IRWIN  HOUSE  ON  FIFTH  STREET 


IV 

HOUSES  LINCOLN  KNEW 

IN  the  residential  portion  of  old  Springfield, 
time  has  been  a  shade  less  cruel  to  the  land 
marks  of  Lincoln's  day.  Here  and  there  we 
come  upon  houses  which  once  knew  his  step, 
houses  that  opened  their  doors  to  him  in  friendly 
greeting  through  many  years.  This  one,  with 
the  long  steps  and  wide  veranda  mounted  on  its 
high  English  basement,  was  the  homestead  of 
Robert  Irwin,  a  merry  wag  of  a  man  who  liked 
a  good  game  of  chess  before  the  fire,  who  led 
the  campaign  singing  for  Lincoln  in  '6 1 ,  mak 
ing  wry  faces  to  amuse  the  crowd.  He  and 
Lincoln  had  many  a  chess  game,  many  a  laugh 
together. 

Major  Stuart's  house,  with  its  long  veranda, 
its  spacious  rooms,  has  known  little  change. 
Stuart's  friendship  with  Lincoln  started  long  be- 

47 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

fore  they  became  law  partners.  The  two  men 
served  together  in  the  skirmish  known  as  the 
"  Black  Hawk  War  "  and  sat  in  the  Lower  House 
at  Vandalia  as  fellow  legislators.  Nine  years 
Lincoln's  senior,  Major  Stuart  long  outlived 
his  friend.  A  distinguished  Congressman,  a  pol 
ished  gentleman  of  the  old  school,  we  see  him 
yet,  in  fancy,  walking  the  streets  that  Lincoln 
knew,  with  a  courtly  bow  for  high  and  low.  He 
once  said  to  a  friend  with  some  sadness :  "I  be 
lieve  that  I  am  going  to  live  to  posterity  only 
as  the  man  who  advised  Mr.  Lincoln  to  study 
law  and  lent  him  law  books.  It  is  a  little  humili 
ating  that  a  man  who  has  served  his  country 
in  Congress,  as  well  as  his  State,  should  have  no 
further  claim  to  remembrance;  but  I  believe  this 


is  so." 


The  law  firm  of  Stuart  &  Lincoln  was  not  of 
long  duration.  When  Stuart  went  to  Congress 
in  1841,  Judge  Stephen  T.  Logan,  the  man 
who  was  accounted  the  best  lawyer  at  the  Illinois 


Houses  Lincoln  Knew 

bar,  offered  a  partnership  to  Lincoln.  Judge  Lo 
gan  "was  small  in  stature,  frail  in  constitution, 
with  a  piercing,  deep-set  eye."  He  taught  Lin 
coln  much  law  in  the  two  years  that  they  worked 
side  by  side.  The  house  in  which  Judge  Logan 
lived  still  stands  in  its  ample  grounds.  An  old 
lady,  who  was  a  child  in  Lincoln's  day,  remem 
bered  that  while  she  was  playing  there  with  the 
Logan  children  Lincoln  called  to  see  the  Judge. 
When  he  was  told  that  the  Judge  was  out,  but 
would  soon  be  in,  he  sank  provisionally  into  a 
rocking-chair  so  much  too  small  for  him  that  his 
long  legs  were  thrust  out  in  a  manner  that  made 
the  children  laugh.  From  this  seat  he  watched 
their  game  of  marbles  for  a  moment  or  two,  then 
asked  for  a  taw  and  dropped  on  the  floor  among 
them.  Here  he  was  found  by  the  Judge  and  his 
wife,  and  thus  the  old  lady  who  told  the  story 
best  remembered  him.  She  used  to  conclude 
her  reminiscence  with  a  quizzical  smile  and 
touch  of  amusement :  "  Now,  of  course,  people 

49 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

think  of  Lincoln  as  a  great  man,  as  great,  I  dare 
say,  as  Lord  Palmerston !  " 

At  one  time  almost  every  house  in  Spring 
field  could  boast  of  as  intimate  a  remembrance ; 
but  one  by  one  these  old  houses  have  made  way 
for  newer  buildings.  At  this  writing  few  that 
knew  Lincoln's  step  still  stand.  One  that  Spring 
field  knows  to-day  as  the  residence  of  the  late 
Bishop  Seymour  was  in  Lincoln's  time  the  house 
of  John  Owsley.  Its  classic  white  pillars,  rising 
from  the  ground  to  the  roof,  reminded  the  pass 
er-by  that  its  owner,  who  was  a  Kentuckian,  had 
tried  as  far  as  possible  to  make  this  new  home  re 
semble  the  Southern  mansion  he  had  left  behind 
him.  Lincoln  was  often  a  guest  within  these 
doors,  though  in  his  own  Kentucky  days  such 
mansions  as  this  had  been  all  unknown  to  him. 
At  a  wedding  that  occurred  here,  Mr.  Owsley's 
young  daughter  was  put  in  charge  of  two  lively 
twin  brothers.  Just  as  the  ceremony  was  about 
to  begin,  she  missed  them  and  searched  for  them 

D        7 

5° 


*. 


. 


- 


THE  OWSLEY  HOUSE 


Houses  Lincoln  Knew 

in  vain  until  she  spied  their  gleeful  faces  high 
above  the  crowd.  And  then  she  saw  that  her 
charges  were  perched  on  Lincoln's  shoulders, 
from  which  vantage-point  they  enjoyed  the  cere 
mony. 

The  house  that  is  richest  in  reminiscences  of 
Lincoln  stands  next  door  to  the  Owsley  home. 
It  is  an  old  brick  mansion  of  mid-Victorian  ar 
chitecture  which,  when  Lincoln  came  to  Spring 
field,  was  one  of  the  finest  residences  in  the 
State.  Already  its  days  are  numbered,  but  before 
it  goes  down  before  the  pitiless  demands  of  an 
expanding  community,  we  may  pause  for  its 
story,  for  the  vision  of  the  days  when,  with  its 
conservatory,  its  rosewood  and  mahogany  fur 
niture,  covered  with  haircloth  or  brocatelle,  its 
gold-banded  china  and  solid  silver,  its  splendor 
was  the  pride  of  the  countryside. 

The  owner  of  this  house  was  Ninian  Ed 
wards,  son  of  an  early  Governor  of  the  new  State 
of  Illinois,  and  himself  a  politician  of  note.  He 

S1 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

had  been  a  member  of  the  Legislature  several 
times  and  had  borne  an  active  part  in  the  cam 
paign  to  remove  the  capital  to  Springfield. 
Whether  it  was  through  association  with  Ed 
wards  in  the  Legislature,  or  through  the  kind 
offices  of  Speed  that  Lincoln  first  found  his  way 
to  the  hospitable  Edwards  home,  is  not  known. 
It  is  more  than  likely  that  he  made  his  first  ap 
pearance  there  as  a  guest  at  one  of  the  semi 
annual  receptions  which  Mrs.  Edwards  made 
a  point  of  holding  for  the  Legislature. 

This  lady,  a  Todd  of  Kentucky,  was  famous 
for  her  entertainments.  Whether  one  was  asked 
to  the  ball  or  the  "  promenade,"  the  cheer  was 
equally  good.  Fifty  years  after,  when  these  par 
ties  were  merely  a  memory,  the  hostess's  sal 
ads  were  mentioned  with  respect ;  and  the  occa 
sions  when  they  were  served  were  recalled  with 
pride.  That  rural  legislator  who  approached  his 
hostess  with,  "  I  am  obliged  to  leave  on  the  nine 
o'clock  train  and  would  be  pleased  to  have  you 


Houses  Lincoln  Knew 

give  me  my  supper  early,"  crudely  epitomized 
the  general  appreciation. 

The  attraction  for  Lincoln  in  the  year  '39, 
however,  was  neither  the  ball,  the  promenade, 
nor  the  cheer.  His  visits  were  plainly  inspired 
by  Mrs.  Edwards's  sister,  Mary  Todd,  of  Ken 
tucky,  a  girl  who  had  fled  a  stepmother  to  accept 
the  shelter  of  a  sister's  home.  She  was  a  bright- 
eyed,  well-educated  girl  with  the  reputation  of 
a  sharp  tongue  in  a  day  when,  as  a  contempo 
rary  explained,  "a  retort  was  well  thought  of." 
An  old  lady  remembered  vividly  the  evening 
party  at  which  Mary  Todd  first  appeared  in 
Springfield  in  a  dashing  costume  of  white  bob- 
binet  with  black  velvet  sash  and  tie.  She  used  to 
smile  slyly  over  the  memory  of  some  retort  Mary 
Todd  had  made  that  very  night  to  a  young  man 
who  essayed  a  battle  of  wits  with  her.  The  party 
had  been  peculiarly  marked  for  the  old  lady,  - 
who  was  then  a  very  young  lady,  —  not  only  by 
Miss  Todd's  brilliant  entry,  but  by  the  fact  that 

53 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

upon  this  evening  the  first  pyramid  cake  ap 
peared. 

What  miraculous  confections  they  were, 
those  pyramid  cakes  of  Mary  Todd's  and  Lin 
coln's  youth.  Cakes  of  graduated  size,  placed 
one  on  top  of  another  like  children's  blocks, 
composed  the  glistening  whole.  Four  and  five 
stories  high  they  rose  in  frosted  splendor  in  the 
centers  of  long  tables.  Thirty-six  eggs  could  be 
used  in  their  making.  A  morning  was  none  too 
long  for  a  child  to  wield  a  fly-brush  while  the 
icing  dried. 

The  old  lady  who  remembered  the  simulta 
neous  appearance  of  Mary  Todd  and  the  pyra 
mid  cake  could  not  recollect  that  Lincoln  had 
been  present  at  that  first  party.  Stephen  A. 
Douglas,  one  of  the  rising  politicians  of  the  State, 
was  more  likely  to  have  been  there.  The  third 
and  last  of  Lincoln's  future  law  partners,  young 
William  Herndon,  may  well  have  been  among 
the  guests.  He  tells,  in  his  famous  "  Life  of 

54 


THE  NINIAN  EDWARDS  HOUSE,  IN  WHICH  LINCOLN 
WAS  MARRIED 


Houses  Lincoln  Knew 

Lincoln,"  of  dancing  with  Mary  Todd  upon 
another  evening  soon  after  and  of  unwittingly 
calling  forth  one  of  her  sharp  retorts.  He  was 
as  a  man  and  also  as  a  writer  much  given  to 
flowery  language,  with  figures  not  always  well 
chosen.  In  would-be  gallantry  he  said  to  Miss 
Todd :  "  You  glide  through  the  dance  with  the 
ease  of  a  serpent."  With  a  flashing  eye  and  a 
stern  «  An  unfortunate  comparison  truly,"  Mary 
Todd  stopped  short. 

This  well  may  have  been  the  beginning  of  a 
long  misunderstanding  between  Lincoln's  fu 
ture  wife  and  Lincoln's  future  law  partner.  Cer 
tain  it  is  that  they  did  not  like  each  other  and 
that  Mary  Todd  has  suffered  grievously  in 
Herndon's  hands. 

Apparently  Lincoln  gave  no  such  offense. 
His  visits  were  encouraged,  even  in  those  days 
when  Stephen  A.  Douglas  joined  Miss  Todd's 
train,  paying  her  what  the  world  of  that  day 
called  "particular  court."  Both  Lincoln  and 

55 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

Douglas,  in  that  rivalry  which  ran  through  their 
lives,  had  their  turn  sitting  on  the  mahogany 
divans,  upholstered  in  patterned  haircloth,  un 
der  the  light  of  Mrs.  Edwards's  sperm-oil  lamps. 
At  the  end  of  the  year  Lincoln  was  the  victor, 
his  engagement  to  Miss  Todd  being  generally 
understood. 

But  the  old  house  that  had  seen  Lincoln's 
love-making  and  Douglas's  "  court,"  was  to  see 
also  a  girl's  tears.  The  engagement  did  not  run 
smoothly.  A  year  and  more  of  estrangement 
ensued  during  which  Lincoln's  step  was  not 
heard  on  the  threshold  nor  his  place  claimed  at 
Mrs.  Edwards's  hospitable  board.  More  grace 
ful  figures  than  his  sat  beside  Miss  Todd  on  the 
slippery  surfaces  of  the  horsehair  sofas. 

The  year  of  estrangement  was  perhaps  the 
most  wretched  of  Lincoln's  life.  Racked  with 
doubts  as  to  his  own  feelings,  he  seems  to  have 
been  further  distressed  by  his  anxiety  as  to  what 
Mary  Todd  might  be  suffering.  He  wrote  out 

56 


Houses  Lincoln  Knew 

his  heart  to  Speed,  and  at  one  time  went  to 
Kentucky  to  pay  him  a  visit.  How  it  might  all 
have  ended  we  cannot  guess,  had  it  not  been  for 
the  intrepidity  of  Mrs.  Simeon  Francis,  the  wife 
of  the  editor,  who  had  long  been  Lincoln's 
friend.  Perhaps  she  was  the  girl's  confidante 
and  knew  her  to  be  constant  to  Lincoln.  Per 
haps  she  had  grown  weary  of  the  young  legis 
lator's  woe-begone  countenance.  In  any  event, 
she  boldly  took  fate  in  her  own  hands.  She  gave 
an  evening  party  with  the  express  purpose  of 
bringing  the  estranged  pair  together.  When 
they  met,  awkwardly  enough,  embarrassed  to 
find  themselves  in  each  other's  presence  so  un 
expectedly,  Mrs.  Francis  briskly  crossed  their 
hands,  with  "  Be  friends  again,"  and  left  them 
to  work  out  their  own  salvation. 

Those  hands  were  destined  never  again  to  be 
unlocked.  In  the  weeks  that  followed,  they  used 
to  meet  in  Mrs.  Francis's  pleasant  rooms,  safe 
here  from  comment  and  observation.  One  rainy 

57 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

morning  — the  4th  of  November  of  that  same 
year  —  Ninian  Edwards  appeared  breathlessly 
at  the  house  of  his  brother,  Benjamin  Edwards, 
an  imposing  mansion  near  the  northern  bound 
ary  of  the  town  that  to-day  does  duty  as  an  art 
museum.  His  sister-in-law,  a  young  woman 
lately  from  the  East,  hastened  to  welcome  him. 

"  I  met  Lincoln  awhile  ago,"  Ninian  Edwards 
began  at  once,  "and  he  told  me  that  he  and  Mary 
were  to  be  married  to-night  at  the  parsonage.  I 
told  him  that  this  would  n't  do,  that  if  Mary  was 
to  be  married,  it  must  be  from  my  house." 

The  sister-in-law  was  silent,  lost  in  astonish 
ment.  She  had  supposed  that  the  engagement 
of  Lincoln  and  Mary  Todd  had  been  perma 
nently  broken.  She  had  been  long  enough  in  the 
West,  however,  to  know  that  a  hasty  wedding 
meant  much  labor  for  the  family  in  a  town  where 
the  local  confectioner's  stock  consisted  of  noth 
ing  more  festive  than  gingerbread  and  beer.  She 
hastened  to  Mrs.  Ninian  Edwards's,  and,  with 

58 


THE  BENJAMIN  EDWARDS  HOUSE 


Houses  Lincoln  Knew 

the  help  of  other  friends  and  neighbors,  a  boun 
teous  old-time  supper  was  prepared. 

When  the  guests  arrived  that  evening,  Mrs. 
Edwards  was  ready  for  them.  Hams  and  cakes 
were  arrayed  on  the  sideboard  in  the  fashion 
of  the  day.  Mary  Todd  had  borrowed  a  wed 
ding  dress  of  a  sister  and  stood,  with  three  brides 
maids,  white  and  shining  in  conventional  silk. 
The  bridegroom,  the  lank  "  plebeian"  who  had 
won  Mary  Todd's  heart,  entered  soon  after  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Butler,  those  friends  who  had 
shared  their  home  with  him  since  his  early 
Springfield  days.  Only  a  short  hour  since,  Mrs. 
Butler,  resplendent  in  a  green  satin  gown,  had 
stood  on  tiptoe  to  tie  the  bridegroom's  necktie, 
determined,  perhaps,  in  her  motherly  care  of 
him,  that  for  once  his  appearance  should  defy 
criticism.  The  Butler  children  hung  about  him 
to  the  last.  When  the  door  closed  upon  him, 
they  knew  that  he  would  not  return  to  their  roof 
again;  the  morning  would  not  find  him  reading 

59 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

the  works  of  William  Wirt  before  the  Franklin 
stove. 

And  so  Lincoln,  in  his  carefully  tied  cravat, 
stood  by  his  bride  between  the  folding  doors  of 
the  wide  double  parlors,  and  made  the  solemn 
vows.  "Love  is  eternal"  was  engraved  on  the 
ring  he  slipped  on  her  plump  little  hand. 

This  was  the  greatest  night  the  old  house  was 
ever  to  know,  though  the  guests  who  fluttered 
about  the  bride  were  so  all-unconscious  of  its 
importance.  To  them  it  meant  only  that  Mary 
Todd  had  chosen  to  ally  herself  with  a  young 
lawyer  with  scarcely  a  penny  to  his  name,  his 
scanty  income  helped  out  by  the  per  diem  of  a 
State  legislator.  They  asked  one  another  in  whis 
pers  why  Douglas  had  not  been  her  choice. 

In  the  long  years  between  this  day  and  Lin 
coln's  departure  for  Washington  to  be  inaugu 
rated  President,  he  and  his  wife  were  many 
times  to  seek  again  this  door;  for  Mrs.  Edwards's 
hospitality  flowed  on  through  the  years,  her  spa- 

60 


Houses  Lincoln  Knew 

cious  rooms  being  ever  thrown  wide  to  welcome 
friends  and  honor  renown. 

It  must  have  been  some  time  after  Lincoln's 
nomination  for  the  Presidency  that,  at  one  of 
Mrs.  Edwards's  balls,  a  fiery  Southern  girl,  vis 
iting  in  the  town,  railed  at  "  this  Lincoln,  who 
wants  to  put  niggers  on  a  level  with  white  peo 
ple."  A  laughing  youth  took  her  then  and  there 
to  meet  Lincoln,  whom  they  came  upon  in  a 
card-room,  surrounded  by  his  usual  court. 

Lincoln  met  the  girl  with  kindness,  and  lis 
tened  with  patience,  seeming  to  see  reflected 
in  her  fury  and  misunderstanding  the  fury  and 
misunderstanding  of  the  South  itself.  He  took 
the  pains  to  explain  his  attitude  on  slavery  quite 
clearly  and  plainly  to  her  before  she  went  back 
to  her  dancing.  "  I  did  not  know  Lincoln  would 
be  like  that,"  was  her  contrite  remark. 

And  that  memory  the  house  has  folded  away 
with  many  others  —  a  mere  sketch  in  its  great 
book  of  recollections  that  ends  with  those  days 

61 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

when  Mary  Lincoln  came  back  to  these  rooms 
that  had  known  her  girlhood,  to  live  out  her 
broken  days,  shattered  by  the  loss  of  her  hus 
band  and  three  of  her  children. 

She  used  to  shut  out  the  sun,  choosing  to  live 
instead  in  the  dim  light  of  candles  as  if  to  say 
that  their  feeble  flicker  sufficed  to  light  her  on 
her  way  in  these  dark  days  of  her  life.  Perhaps 
it  was  because  to  her  darkened  mind  she  found 
that,  by  shutting  away  a  reality  stern  and  grim, 
she  could  better  lose  herself  in  the  visions  of  the 
past,  when,  gay,  spirited,  and  happy,  in  white 
bobbinet  and  black  velvet,  she  danced  to  the 
lively  strains  of  the  fiddles  while  the  old  house 
echoed  her  gay  retorts. 


V.  'The  Lincoln  Home 


THE  GLOBE  HOTEL 


THE  LINCOLN  HOME 

the  morning  of  his  wedding  day,  Lin 
coln  himself  had  sought  out  the  minister,  the 
Reverend  Charles  Dresser,  and  asked  him  to 
perform  the  ceremony.  The  minister  was  eat 
ing  breakfast,  in  his  modest  one-story  house  at 
the  corner  of  Eighth  and  Jackson  Streets,  when 
Lincoln  arrived.  Perhaps  on  this  rainy  Novem 
ber  morning  the  parsonage's  interior  looked 
particularly  homelike  and  inviting.  In  any  case, 
then  or  later  the  house  made  its  impression  on 
Lincoln,  for  we  find  him,  some  sixteen  months 
after  his  marriage,  puchasing  it  for  his  own,  pay 
ing  from  his  hard-earned  savings  twelve  hun 
dred  dollars  spot  cash  and,  in  addition,  convey 
ing  his  sole  piece  of  property  —  a  lot  in  the 
business  part  of  the  town.  Soon  after  he  installed 

65 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

in  this  new  home  his  wife  and  his  infant  son, 
Robert  Todd. 

The  baby  had  been  born  in  the  boarding- 
house  called  the  "  Globe  Hotel,"  where  Lincoln 
had  taken  his  bride.  This  was  the  best  board 
ing-house  in  town.  One  stayed  there  for  the 
consideration  of  four  dollars  per  week.  But  the 
days  of  boarding  were  now  over.  The  father 
of  a  son  desired  a  more  permanent  habitation. 
Thenceforth,  for  almost  twenty  years,  the  slim 
city  directory  contained  the  words:  "A.  Lin 
coln,  attorney  at  law,  residence  Eighth  and 
Jackson." 

The  Middle  West,  in  its  haste  to  realize  its 
future,  has  been  all  too  prodigal  with  its  his 
toric  landmarks :  but  the  house  where  the  Lin- 
coins  lived  has  been  preserved  by  the  State.  The 
pilgrim  finds  it  to  be  a  frame  house,  harsh  in 
outline,  its  proportions  not  improved  by  the 
second  story  the  Lincolns  added  to  meet  the  re 
quirements  of  a  growing  family.  It  is  perched 

66 


A  CORNER  OF  LINCOLN'S  SITTING-ROOM  IN  THE  HOUSE  AT 
EIGHTH  AND  JACKSON  STREETS 


The  Lincoln  Home 

so  near  the  edge  of  its  terraced  lot  that  it  looks 
as  if  it  might  be  about  to  leap  the  low  wooden 
fence  that  encloses  the  grounds. 

Here  it  was  that  the  Lincolns  lived  during 
the  greater  part  of  their  married  life.  Here  were 
born  to  them  three  more  children  —  all  sons. 
Of  these,  the  first  had  scarcely  been  laid  in  the 
mother's  arms  before  Death  had  borne  him  out 
at  the  door.  It  was  the  first  grief  the  new  home 
had  known.  Mary  Lincoln  lay  prostrate,  turn 
ing  from  the  food  that  was  urged  upon  her ;  for 
hers,  though  a  stormy  heart,  was  deep  and  lov 
ing.  And  Lincoln,  so  we  learn  through  the  rem 
iniscences  of  a  neighbor,  bent  over  her  plead 
ing:  "  Eat,  Mary,  for  we  must  live." 

But  this  period  of  sorrow  passed,  to  be  suc 
ceeded  by  happier  times,  as  we  learn  through 
scrapbooks  and  letters.  Two  more  boys  were 
born,  —  "  Willie  "  and  "  Tad,"  they  were  called. 
The  noise  of  their  play  resounded  through  the 
rooms.  Their  games  endangered  the  shells  on 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

the  "  what-not."  Out  of  the  door  they  ran  to 
meet  a  tall  man  ambling  absently  up  the  street 
with  the  plodding  walk  of  one  who  follows  the 
plough.  With  willing  hands  they  helped  him 
put  up  his  muddy  buggy  and  his  horse,  «  Old 
Bob,"  when,  after  long  weeks  on  the  circuit, 
Lawyer  Lincoln  came  home.  They  were  not 
afraid  to  play  freely  with  the  old  green  cotton 
umbrella  their  father  placed  in  the  rack,  nor 
were  they  deterred  by  the  badge  of  ownership, 
"A.  Lincoln,"  in  great  muslin  letters,  sewed 
firmly  on  its  under  side. 

Perhaps  because  his  public  life  necessitated 
so  many  absences  from  home  (since  his  mar 
riage  he  had  sat  in  Congress,  campaigned  for 
Clay,  ridden  the  circuit,  and  run  for  United 
States  Senator),  Lincoln  did  not  assume  the  role 
of  patriarch,  preferring  to  leave  the  children's 
discipline  to  their  mother.  When  three-year-old 
Robert  had  run  away,  Lincoln  had  written  to 
Speed :  "  By  the  time  I  reached  the  house,  his 

68 


The  Lincoln  Home 

mother  had  found  him  and  had  him  whipped, 
and  by  now,  very  likely,  he  has  run  away 
again." 

According  to  old  stories,  the  children  were 
more  severe  with  their  father  than  their  father 
was  with  them.  One  of  the  friends  with  whom 
Lincoln  customarily  played  chess,  used  to  re 
late  grimly  of  how  tiny  Tad  had  once  swept  the 
chessmen  from  the  board,  so  ending  the  game, 
when  his  father  failed  to  heed  his  summons  to 
come  to  dinner.  "And  Lincoln  never  said  a  word. 
He  took  the  child's  hand  and  went  home!"  Thus 
the  story  used  to  end. 

Lincoln's  neighbors  used  to  recall  him  walk 
ing  about  the  streets,  a  boy  on  either  side.  Some 
times  they  went  for  groceries  —  it  was  before 
"free  delivery";  sometimes  they  went  to  the 
drug  store  where  the  men  played  chess  and  had 
soda  water  —  without  ice-cream,  of  course, — the 
ice-cream  soda  was  unknown.  Lincoln's  partner, 
Herndon,  used  to  complain  that  the  boys  spent 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

Sunday  mornings  in  the  office,  spoiling  pens  and 
tossing  about  books  and  papers,  with  never  a 
word  of  admonition  from  their  father. 

It  was  on  a  Sunday  after  his  nomination  for 
the  Presidency  that  Lincoln  deserted  his  boys 
and  went  to  church  himself.  When  Tad  missed 
his  playfellow  we  do  not  know,  but  it  was  some 
time  during  the  sermon  when  he  strayed  down 
the  aisle,  disheveled,ungartered,and  very  grimy, 
innocently  seeking  his  best  friend.  Mrs.  Lin 
coln,  elegant  in  ashes  of  roses,  spread  wide  over 
hoops,  a  lace  shawl  drooping  from  her  shoul 
ders,  her  white  gloves  crossed  complacently  onthe 
widthsof  rich  silk,  flushed  until  the  color  reached 
her  new  white  bonnet ;  but  Lincoln  himself,  un 
comfortable  in  his  Sunday  suit  that  would  ride 
up  around  his  neck  when  he  sat  down,  stretched 
out  a  long  arm  and  gathered  Tad  into  its  shelter 
while  Mrs.  Lincoln  reflected  that  he  never  had 
and  never  would  care  for  appearances. 

Perhaps  this  was  due  to  the  old  easy  life  of 

70 


The  Lincoln  Home 

the  flatboats  and  the  circuit.  Certain  it  is  that  he 
would  open  the  front  door  to  guests ;  he  would 
take  certain  liberties  with  conventions  at  the 
table,  and  once,  yes,  so  they  say,  he  took  off 
his  great  shoes  and  warmed  his  stocking  feet  at 
the  stove  during  court.  On  another  occasion, 
some  ladies  who  called  at  his  house  one  hot 
summer  evening  found  him  lying  full  length  in 
the  front  hall.  Not  at  all  abashed  to  be  discov 
ered  thus,  Lincoln  ushered  them  in  with  "  I  '11 
trot  the  women  folks  out." 

This  must  have  been  before  the  days  when 
Mrs.  Lincoln  had  for  a  servant  a  little  Portu 
guese  girl,  who,  outliving  them  all,  added  her 
humble  recollections  to  the  store  of  reminis 
cences  of  the  family  life.  Of  Mrs.  Lincoln  the 
old  woman  said,  with  a  shake  of  her  wizened 
little  head :  "  She  taka  no  sassy  talk,  but  if  you 
good  to  her,  she  good  to  you.  You  gotta  good 
friend."  Of  Lincoln  she  had  more  to  say :  "  He 
so  kind.  When  he  come  in  he  taka  the  chillins. 

71 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

They  no  'fraid  of  father.  He  so  kind.  He 
choppa  the  wood  for  fire,  and  little  Robert 
choppa  the  little  wood.  When  he  passa  me,  he 
patta  my  shoulder.  I  worka  for  him." 

For  Lincoln's  dress  she  would  apologize. 
"  He  no  style,  no  verra  style.  He  wear  just  old 
plugga  hat,  and  shirt  on  this-a-way."  Her  ges 
ture  indicated  a  garment  awry.  In  a  final  effort 
to  sum  up  her  impression  of  Lincoln's  character, 
she  raised  her  eyes  to  the  picture  of  the  family 
group  that  hung  on  her  cottage  wall,  and,  in  her 
scanty  English,  she  said :  "  Mr.  Lincoln  no  verra 
style.  He  just  common,  like  some  one  that  is 
poor." 

Hundreds  of  travelers  come  yearly  to  visit 
Lincoln's  home.  In  the  guest-book  presidential 
candidates  have  left  their  signatures;  literary 
men  their  tributes.  Between  the  acts  of  their 
plays,  actors  have  stolen  time  to  seek  the  house. 
But  the  great  bulk  of  the  pilgrims  are  plain  and 

72 


The  Lincoln  Home 

humble  folk.  Old  slaves  have  come  to  drop  upon 
their  knees  in  prayer.  A  youth  who  had  beaten 
his  way  across  the  country  on  freight  cars  ap 
peared  one  day,  ragged  and  cold,  to  pay  his 
poor  respects ;  for  had  not  Lincoln  known  what 
it  was  to  be  ragged  and  to  seek  work  from  town 
to  town  ?  It  would  seem  as  if  the  spirit  of  Lin 
coln  still  animated  the  house ;  as  if  Democracy 
still  opened  the  door;  and  that  pilgrims  rejoice, 
like  the  old  woman  who  had  been  his  servant, 
that  he  "had  no  verra  style,"  that  "he  was  just 
common,  like  some  one  that  is  poor.'1 


LINCOLN'S  PEW  IN  THE  FIRST  PRESBYTERIAN  CHURCH 


VI.  Old  State  House 


THE  OLD  STATE  HOUSE 


VI 

OLD  STATE  HOUSE 

IF  the  stark  little  frame  house  on  Eighth  and 
Jackson  Streets  reveals  to  us,  at  our  knock,  Lin 
coln  the  private  citizen,  so,  in  equal  measure,  the 
old  State  House  gives  to  us  many  a  clear-cut  pic 
ture  of  Lincoln  the  public  man.  Within  its  stout 
walls  of  that  pleasant-toned  fossil  limestone  that 
was  taken  in  '37  from  a  quarry  on  the  outskirts 
of  the  town,  we  can  see  in  fancy  the  gaunt  face 
and  tall  figure  of  Lincoln  in  every  shadow ;  we 
can  with  no  great  difficulty  imagine  him  stroll 
ing  through  the  legislative  halls  in  the  early  for 
ties  with  a  contemplative  pride  in  their  splendor. 
For  it  was  Lincoln  and  his  colleagues,  we  will 
remember,  who,  through  wire-pulling,  maneu 
vering,  and  personal  influence,  made  Spring 
field  the  capital  of  Illinois. 

77 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

The  old  State  House  is  the  monument  that 
marks  the  success  of  their  efforts.  From  the  very 
day  of  its  completion  to  the  day  when  Lincoln 
left  Springfield  forever,  after  his  election  to  the 
Presidency,  this  building  was  linked  in  innu 
merable  associations  with  his  name.  Here  we 
find  him,  as  State  legislator,  as  orator  on  many 
an  occasion,  as  candidate  for  United  States  Sen 
ator,  and  again  as  Republican  nominee  for  that 
position  six  years  afterwards.  We  discover  him 
here  in  1 86 1  in  an  upper  chamber  put  at  his 
disposal  by  the  Governor,  where  he  could  re 
ceive  the  long  line  of  office-seekers,  well-wishers, 
and  delegations  who  came  to  pay  their  respects 
to  the  President-elect.  Last  of  all  we  behold  him 
here,  stretched  in  death  on  the  palanquin  they 
had  fashioned  for  him  in  that  Hall  of  Represent 
atives  that  had  so  often  echoed  with  the  laughter 
provoked  by  his  humor  and  the  demonstrations 
of  enthusiasm  awakened  by  his  courageous  ut 
terances  of  immortal  truths. 


THE  ROOM  IN  THE  OLD  STATE  HOUSE  MOST  IDENTIFIED 
WITH  LINCOLN 


Old  State  House 

Since  that  day  the  old  State  House  has  known 
many  changes.  In  1867,  some  twenty  years 
after  its  erection,  it  was  sold  to  the  county,  the 
growing  State  demanding  larger  quarters.  In 
1899  the  county  in  turn  had  outgrown  the 
building.  With  a  respect  none  too  common  in 
the  Middle  West,  the  County  Commissioners 
determined  to  enlarge  but  to  preserve  the  his 
toric  landmark.  Thereupon,  with  the  best  inten 
tions  if  not  the  best  architectural  results,  they 
constructed  a  new  foundation  to  serve  as  ground 
floor,  and  onto  its  shoulders,  with  no  slight 
skill,  lifted  bodily  the  old  State  House.  And 
thus,  even  though  the  old  Greek  lines  were  lost, 
the  State  House  with  all  its  rich  memories  was 
saved.  The  interior  is  largely  unchanged.  The 
square  rooms,  with  their  long  windows,  used 
now  for  the  county's  courts,  yield  to  the  sym 
pathetic  imagination  many  a  vanished  scene. 

The  year  1854  is  rich  in  momentous  occa 
sions.  Feeling  was  running  high  throughout 

79 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

the  country,  for  the  Missouri  Compromise,  that 
law  which  had  long  limited  slavery  to  a  certain 
well-defined  area,  had  been  repealed.  The  Ne 
braska  Act,  as  the  bill  which  had  accomplished 
this  was  called,  gave  the  inhabitants  of  the 
new  territory  the  right  to  choose  for  themselves 
whether  or  not  slavery  should  be  permitted 
within  its  borders. 

The  author  of  this  dangerous  bill  we  have 
met  before.  He  is  none  other  than  Stephen  A. 
Douglas,  fellow  legislator  with  Lincoln  at  Van- 
dalia,  one  of  the  young  men  who  used  to  de 
bate  around  Speed's  open  fire,  rival  with  Lincoln 
for  the  favor  of  Mary  Todd.  Since  those  days 
his  ascent  in  the  world  has  been  steady.  He 
has  been  Secretary  of  State  in  Illinois,  Judge  of 
the  Supreme  Court  in  that  State,  and  he  is  now 
in  his  second  term  in  the  United  States  Senate. 
How  paltry  Lincoln's  few  honors  —  his  single 
term  as  Congressman  and  his  four  terms  as  State 
legislator  —  look  beside  these  glories.  It  is  in 

80 


Old  State  House 

his  role  of  Senator  that  Douglas  is  in  Spring 
field  defending  his  bill. 

Our  curtain  rises  on  the  day  immediately 
following  the  one  on  which  he  had  made  an 
eloquent  address.  On  this  very  afternoon  of 
October  5  the  crowds  assembled  in  Springfield 
for  an  annual  State  agricultural  fair  have  been 
promised  that  Douglas's  arguments  will  be  an 
swered  by  Judge  Lyman  Trumbull,  an  Anti- 
Nebraska  Democrat  of  prominence. 

And  now  Fate  intervenes  for  Abraham  Lin 
coln.  Trumbull  is  prevented  unexpectedly  from 
coming  to  Springfield,  and  the  committee  be 
think  them  of  a  certain  Whig  lawyer,  prominent 
in  the  State  Legislature,  who  had  been  dropping 
out  of  politics  during  the  past  six  years.  He 
consents  to  take  Trumbull's  place. 

The  Hall  of  Representatives  is  the  scene  of 
Lincoln's  entry  into  the  great  controversy.  What 
a  contrast  he  presents  to  the  "Little  Giant." 
Douglas,  well-dressed,  haughty,  and  imperious, 

81 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

sits  on  the  clerk's  platform  as  Lincoln,  stoop- 
shouldered,  long  and  lank,  with  a  "  quizzical, 
pleasant,  raw-boned  face,"  rises  and  bows  to  the 
crowd  that  packs  the  room  to  bursting. 

Lincoln  begins  by  complimenting  his  dis 
tinguished  friend,  reminding  the  audience  that 
he  had  not  had  the  wide  experience  of  Judge 
Douglas  in  public  life,  and  that,  therefore,  if  he 
should  misstate  any  fact,  he  would  be  very 
much  obliged  to  the  Judge  if  he  would  cor 
rect  him,  a  humility  strangely  reminiscent  of  a 
Roman  speaker  who  had  reminded  the  crowd, 
"  I  am  no  orator  as  Brutus  is."  Perhaps  Lincoln 
and  Jack  Kelso  had  read  that  speech  together. 

The  "  Little  Giant "  is  gratified  by  this  pro 
per  deference.  He  rises  and  announces  with 
senatorial  dignity  that  he  will  not  interrupt  the 
speaker  until  the  close  of  his  remarks.  And 
then  Lincoln  launches  into  the  masterly  review 
of  the  legislation  on  slavery.  How  convincing 
his  earnestness  is !  The  beads  of  perspiration 

82 


Old  State  House 

drop  from  his  brow  as  he  throws  his  head  this 
way  and  that  like  a  projectile.  "Not  a  grace 
ful  figure,  yet  not  an  ungraceful  one." 

Douglas  soon  forgets  his  promise  not  to  in 
terrupt.  He  is  constantly  on  his  feet  in  defense 
of  his  bill.  Surely  the  Whig  lawyer  can  find  no 
answer  to  his  thundering  assertion :  "  The  ori 
gin  of  the  Nebraska  Bill  was  this,  sir,  God  cre 
ated  man  and  placed  before  him  good  and  evil 
and  left  him  to  choose  for  himself.  That  was 
the  origin  of  the  Nebraska  Bill." 

Lincoln  pauses,  the  «  picture  of  good  nature 
and  patience,"  a  smile  lurking  in  the  corner  of 
his  mouth  parts  his  lips.  "  I  think,  then,"  he 
says  drolly,  "  that  it  is  a  great  honor  to  Judge 
Douglas  that  he  was  the  first  man  to  discover 
the  fact" 

And  the  long  roar  of  appreciation  of  the 
crowd  warns  the  irate  judge  that  this  Whig  law 
yer,  whom  he  has  so  distanced  in  the  world,  is 
no  mean  antagonist. 

83 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

Perhaps  his  success  in  holding  his  own  so 
easily  with  the  famous  Douglas  caused  Lincoln 
to  decide  to  run  for  the  United  States  Senate 
himself.  For  the  term  of  Douglas's  colleague, 
General  Shields,  was  about  to  expire  and  it  was 
this  vacancy  that  Lincoln  determined  to  try  to 
fill. 

"  You  used  to  express  a  great  deal  of  partial 
ity  for  me,"  he  wrote  one  political  friend.  "  Some 
friends  here  are  really  for  me  for  the  United 
States  Senate,  and  I  should  be  very  grateful  if 
you  could  make  a  mark  for  me  among  your 
friends." 

A  month  later  he  wrote  to  another  politician, 
"  I  have  really  got  it  into  my  head  to  run  for 
the  United  States  Senate,  and  if  I  could  have 
your  support,  my  chances  would  be  reasonably 
good." 

In  February  of  the  new  year,  1855,  the  battle 
is  on.  Democrats,  Anti-Nebraska  Democrats, 
and  Whigs  all  have  their  candidates.  Again  the 


Old  State  House 

scene  is  the  old  State  House.  In  joint  session 
the  Assembly  meets  in  the  Hall  of  Represent 
atives  to  ballot  for  Senator.  We  shall  do  well 
if  we  can  find  a  place  in  the  gallery  among 
the  ladies  in  their  full-flounced  skirts,  mantles, 
and  pelisses,  the  fashionable  ones  in  bonnets, 
set  far  back  on  the  head,  faced  with  roses  and 
ribbons. 

That  short,  round-faced  little  woman  is 
Mrs.  Lincoln.  The  tall  and  stately  beauty,  sur 
rounded  by  her  handsome  daughters,  is  Mrs. 
Mattison,  the  wife  of  the  Democratic  Governor. 
Rumor  has  it  that  Governor  Mattison's  name  will 
be  sprung  as  a  candidate  at  a  crucial  moment. 
His  views  on  the  extension  of  slavery  have  been 
kept  purposely  vague. 

Down  comes  the  Speaker's  gavel.  The  mo 
mentous  call  of  the  roll  begins.  Abraham  Lin 
coln  is  in  the  lead  with  his  forty-five  votes  as 
against  the  Democrats'  candidate,  Shields,  forty- 
one,  and  Lyman  Trumbull's,  the  Anti-Nebras- 

85 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

kans',  paltry  five.  The  Democrats  would  rather 
that  Lincoln,  the  Whig,  were  elected  than  the 
stern-faced  Trumbull  from  the  bolting  wing  of 
their  own  party. 

Plainly  Lincoln  is  the  favorite.  A  lady  in  the 
gallery  whispers  to  another  that  Lincoln's  sister- 
in-law,  Mrs.  Edwards,  is  to  give  a  reception  on 
this  very  night  to  celebrate  the  victory.  How 
Mary  Lincoln  will  enjoy  standing  in  line.  She 
will  know  how  to  look  the  part  of  a  Senator's 
wife. 

And  yet,  as  the  hours  drag  by,  Lincoln's  vic 
tory  becomes  less  sure.  He  does  not  add  to  those 
forty-five  votes.  Steadily  they  slip  away  from 
him.  TrumbulPs  five  have  swelled  to  five  times 
the  number.  And  now  the  Democrats  withdraw 
Shields  and  bring  forward  Governor  Mattison 
for  the  final  rush. 

The  light  of  the  February  afternoon  has 
waned.  The  gas  has  been  lighted  in  the  great 
central  chandelier.  The  galleries  are  now  packed 

86 


Old  State  House 

to  suffocation.  In  another  moment  Mattison  will 
be  elected.  How  the  eyes  of  his  handsome  fam 
ily  sparkle ! 

Fifteen  Whigs  stick  stoically  to  Lincoln. 
Among  them  we  mark  the  quaint  figure  of 
Judge  Logan,  for  a  short  time  Lincoln's  senior 
partner  in  the  practice  of  the  law.  He  has  sharply 
chiseled  features,  deep-set  eyes,  and  a  firm  slit 
of  a  mouth.  His  mouth  is  firmer  still  when  Lin 
coln  bends  over  him  and  urges  the  Whigs  to 
swing  their  vote  to  Trumbull.  Logan  gives  up 
hope  with  an  effort.  He  will  obey,  but  not  with 
out  protest. 

«  Better  Trumbull  than  Mattison,"  Lincoln 
urges,  and  the  Whigs,  who  have  withdrawn  for 
conference,  file  back  into  their  seats.  On  the 
next  ballot  they  cast  their  full  strength  for  the 
man  who  began  the  day  with  five  votes.  It  is  all 
over.  The  Democrats  have  been  ignominiously 
defeated.  "  Hurrah  for  Trumbull ! "  shout  the 
crowds  as  they  pour  out  into  the  bleak  rawness 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

of  the  February  night,  the  Democrats  looking 
more  woe-begone  than  the  Whigs. 

An  hour  later  the  society  folk  are  tripping  in 
at  Ninian  Edwards' s  door,  the  ladies  in  tulle  and 
silk  festooned  with  garlands  of  flowers,  many 
of  them  with  headdresses  of  lace.  By  the  side 
of  the  host  and  hostess  the  Trumbulls  stand,  re 
ceiving  the  good  wishes  and  congratulations  of 
their  friends.  Then  Lincoln  enters  the  room,  his 
wife  at  his  side.  Plainly  he  is  very  tired,  but  he 
reaches  out  his  great  hand  in  a  warm,  generous 
clasp.  "  Not  too  disappointed  to  congratulate 
my  friend  Trumbull,"  he  says. 

Years  have  passed.  The  Whigs  have  vanished. 
The  Republican  Party  has  been  born.  For  Sen 
ator  it  has  just  nominated  Abraham  Lincoln  as 
the  "  first  and  only  choice  of  the  Republicans 
of  Illinois  for  United  States  Senator  as  the  succes 
sor  of  Stephen  A.  Douglas."  Thereupon  they 
adjourn  until  evening. 

88 


Old  State  House 

It  is  the  Senate  Chamber  that  can  boast  of  be 
ing  the  background  for  this  occasion.  For  there 
it  was,  at  eight  o'clock,  that  Lincoln  arose  and 
began  that  memorable  address  which  his  friends 
had  warned  him  would  lose  him  the  Senatorship ; 
which  Time  has  proved  eventually  elected  him 
to  the  Presidency. 

Let  us  summon  from  the  past  his  tall  figure 
as  he  mounts  the  platform ;  let  us  listen  for  the 
first  notes  of  that  effective  falsetto  in  which  he 
habitually  opened  a  speech.  The  words  come 
slowly  as  if  the  speaker  sent  them  rolling  down 
the  ages :  — 

"  Mr.  President,  and  Gentlemen  of  the  Con 
vention  :  If  we  could  first  know  where  we  are  and 
whither  we  are  tending,  we  could  better  judge 
what  to  do  and  how  to  do  it." 

And  then:  "A  house  divided  against  itself 
cannot  stand.  I  believe  that  this  Government  can 
not  endure  half  slave  and  half  free.  I  do  not  ex 
pect  the  United  States  to  be  dissolved.  I  do  not 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

expect  the  house  to  fall ;  but  I  do  expect  it  will 
cease  to  be  divided";  and  so  on  to  the  end. 

A  jewel  box  of  memories  is  this  old  State 
House,  over  which  we  might  linger  indefinitely; 
and  chief  among  its  treasures  is  the  recollection 
of  that  glorious  day  when  a  strong  man  arose,  and 
in  defiance  of  advice,  uttered  the  immortal  words 
that  presaged  the  end  of  slavery. 


VII.  Last  Days  at  Home 


THE  STATION  WHERE  LINCOLN  DELIVERED  HIS 
FAREWELL  ADDRESS  TO  SPRINGFIELD 


VII 

LAST  DAYS  AT  HOME 

J.HE  walls  of  the  State  House  which  in  June 
had  echoed  Lincoln's  great  speech,  "  A  House 
Divided  Against  Itself,"  resounded  all  too  soon 
the  huzzas  of  the  Democratic  legislators  who, 
seven  months  later,  returned  Douglas  to  the 
United  States  Senate.  The  preceding  summer 
had  been  filled  for  both  Illinois's  great  contest 
ants,  during  their  seven  joint  debates,  with  the 
adulation  of  crowds,  the  crash  of  country  bands 
and  the  flare  of  bonfires.  For  Douglas  these 
demonstrations  culminated  in  a  triumph  that 
swept  him  back  to  Washington;  for  Lincoln, 
they  ended  in  a  defeat  that  returned  him  to  his 
law  practice  with  an  empty  wallet. 

That  the  long  night  of  political  death  had  set 
in  he  may  well  have  felt,  when  every  printing- 

93 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

house  in  Springfield  refused  to  publish  the 
speeches  he  had  so  lately  delivered  in  this  mo 
mentous  campaign,  with  the  cold  defense, 
"  There  would  be  no  demand  for  such  a  book." 
In  those  days  Springfield  seemed  still  a  long 
way  from  the  Eastern  States,  so  that  it  was  nat 
ural,  perhaps,  that  the  local  printers  should  not 
know  how  widely  Lincoln's  fame  had  traveled, 
how  sure  it  was  to  grow.  In  the  two  swift  years 
that  followed  they  were  to  learn  the  extent  of 
his  growing  reputation,  for,  as  we  know,  a  bare 
year  and  five  months  had  gone  by  after  Doug 
las's  election  to  the  Senate,  before  the  Repub 
lican  Convention  in  Chicago  had  nominated 
Lincoln  to  the  Presidency. 

When  the  news  that  Lincoln  had  been  nomi 
nated  was  flashed  over  the  wires  to  Springfield, 
the  little  city  of  less  than  ten  thousand  inhab 
itants  was  shaken  with  excitement.  Every  one 
tried  to  be  the  first  to  tell  his  distinguished 
townsman  the  news.  Many  believed  they  were 

94 


HOUSE  OF  REPRESENTATIVES,  STATE  HOUSE,  WHERE  LINCOLN 
DELIVERED  HIS  "  HOUSE-DIVIDED-AGAINST-ITSELF"   SPEECH 


Last  Days  at  Home 

the  first  to  gasp  the  words,  "  Mr.  Lincoln,  you 
rre  nominated " ;  which  accounts  for  conflict 
ing  stories  as  to  when  and  where  and  from 
whom  Lincoln  learned  of  his  victory.  Men  who 
had  been  boys  on  that  day  long  liked  to  relate 
the  story  of  how  Lincoln  played  at  ball  with 
them,  when  a  messenger  brought  him  a  tele 
gram  that  caused  him  to  exclaim  hurriedly, 
"  Boys,  I  have  to  get  out  of  this,"  and  to  disap 
pear  in  the  direction  of  the  "Journal "  office. 

That  this  telegram  was  not  the  decisive  one 
seems  certain ;  for  other  witnesses  take  up  the 
tale  at  this  point  and  tell  of  the  editor  of  the 
"Journal  "  rushing  into  the  newspaper  office, 
where  he  found  Lincoln  and  about  twenty  other 
men  waiting  for  news,  with  still  another  mes 
sage.  The  editor  was  a  man  of  slight  physique, 
and  what  with  his  excitement  and  his  running, 
a  mere  ghost  of  a  voice  issued  from  his  stifT, 
white  lips  when  he  attempted  to  wave  the  tele 
gram  over  his  head  and  shout  the  news.  A 

95 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

young  lawyer  named  Zane  was  obliged  to  cry 
for  him :  "  Three  cheers  for  our  next  President." 

And  then  Lincoln  went  home  to  his  wife, 
stopping  all  the  way  to  shake  the  hands  of  well- 
wishers,  with  his  hearty  "Well,  we've  got  it." 

From  this  time  on  until  the  day  of  his  elec 
tion  in  the  following  November,  Springfield 
was  to  thrill  with  the  long-drawn-out  excitement 
of  being  the  home  town  of  a  presidential  nom 
inee  ;  and  the  still  greater  experience,  between 
the  day  of  his  election  and  his  departure  for 
Washington,  of  being  the  home  of  a  President 
elect. 

At  the  mere  mention  of  '61,  how  the  pic 
tures  flash  into  life !  We  see  the  silk-hatted  del 
egation  arriving  from  Chicago  to  make  formal 
announcement  of  the  nomination,  tramping  up 
the  steps  of  Lincoln's  modest  home,  filing  into 
the  drawing-room  as  the  small  Portuguese  serv 
ant  swung  wide  the  door  for  their  entrance. 
There,  unawed  by  the  "  what-not "  and  the  gold- 


Last  Days  at  Home 

bound  books  on  the  center  table,  they  await  Lin 
coln's  entrance.  They  look  him  over  critically 
as  he  comes  toward  them.  How  awkwardly  he 
moves !  The  caricatures,  then,  have  not  exag 
gerated  his  grotesque  appearance.  But  wait! 
He  begins  to  speak,  and  his  face  lights  up  with 
inner  fire.  The  choice  of  the  party  is  not  so 
hard  to  understand. 

And  what  a  glorious  day  was  that  of  August 
8  of  this  same  momentous  year,  when  Lincoln's 
candidacy  was  celebrated  by  two  monstrous 
processions.  From  all  over  the  State  the  farm 
ers  poured  into  the  town,  each  delegation  striv 
ing  to  outdo  the  others  with  its  emblems.  Let 
us  imagine  ourselves  somewhere  on  Eighth 
Street,  near  the  Lincoln  home,  pushing  to  the 
edge  of  the  sidewalk  to  watch  the  delegations 

o  o 

go  by.  The  fog  of  the  early  morning  has  rolled 
away.  The  day  is  warm  and  pleasant.  A  group 
of  young  men  have  brought  a  cannon  to  fire 
in  honor  of  Lincoln.  They  have  gone  to  his 

97 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

house  and  asked  him  to  give  it  a  name.  «  Mary 
Lincoln,"  he  gallantly  christens  it,  and  "Mary 
Lincoln"  it  is,  lifting  up  its  voice,  as  she  has 
ever  done,  to  praise  her  husband. 

The  bands  are  crashing  out  their  campaign 
tunes.  Rivers  of  men  are  pouring  down  the 
street  in  an  unbroken  stream.  See  this  great 
ball  a  group  of  enthusiasts  are  rolling  through 
the  dust,  with  the  words  "  The  Republican  Ball 
Is  In  Motion  "  painted  upon  it.  So  it  is ;  and 
"  Honest  Abe,"  or  "  Mr.  Lincoln,"  as  his  towns 
men  always  call  him,  has  given  it  momentum. 
Here  is  a  banner  emblazoned  with 

"The  people  mourn  insulted  laws 
And  curse  Steve  Douglas  as  the  cause." 

We're  not  so  sure  about  that.  Many  an  on 
looker  on  that  day  means  to  cast  a  vote  for  the 
"  Little  Giant."  Here  is  another  attempt  to  voice 
assurance :  — 

"Westward  the  course  of  empire  takes  its  way, 
We  link-on  to  Lincoln,  our  fathers  were  for  Clay." 

98 


Last  Days  at  Home 

The  woolen  mill's  float  carries  a  power  loom 
which  is  actually  weaving  jeans  cloth.  Before 
the  procession  is  over  several  yards  have  been 
woven,  and  straightway  are  cut  and  made  up 
before  the  eyes  of  the  crowd  into  a  pair  of 
pantaloons  to  be  given  to  Lincoln,  to  remind 
him,  likely  as  not,  of  the  day  when  jeans  were 
good  enough  to  wear  in  the  early  Assembly  of 
Illinois. 

Here  comes  a  club  proud  to  celebrate  Lin 
coln's  humble  origin.  Its  float  represents  a  flat- 
boat.  Another  float,  just  coming  around  the 
corner,  shows  us  the  rail-splitter  at  work.  What 
faith  it  gives  many  a  lad  in  the  Republic  to  real 
ize  that  America's  ladder  can  be  scaled  from  the 
bottom  rung  to  the  very  top ! 

For  those  of  the  spectators  who  stand  near 
the  Lincoln  house  there  is  a  fine  moment  when 
Richard  Yates,  the  candidate  for  Governor  on 
the  ticket  with  Lincoln,  leaves  the  procession  to 
shake  Lincoln's  hand  as  he  stands  on  the  stoop 

99 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

reviewing  the  parade.  When  they  call  on  him 
for  a  speech,  he  depicts  for  them  his  first  meet 
ing  with  Lincoln  in  the  early  New  Salem  days, 
told  of  finding  the  young  storekeeper  and  farm 
laborer  at  the  house  of  Boiling  Green.  The 
marchers  were  largely  farmers,  as  the  men  must 
ever  be  in  the  great  grain  State  of  Illinois.  They 
knew  what  it  had  cost  to  wrest  success  from 
narrow  circumstances.  And  when  Yates,  with 
dramatic  effect,  concluded :  "I  shook  hands 
that  day  with  the  future  President  of  the  United 
States,  and  he  —  shook  hands  with  the  future 
Governor  of  Illinois,"  they  roared  applause. 

When  the  Republican  victory  was  assured, 
the  following  November,  the  town  of  Spring 
field  made  a  last  effort  to  show  its  joy.  Lanterns 
were  hung  out  from  every  house,  candles  flick 
ered  in  the  windows  studding  the  small  panes 
with  light,  the  old  State  House  shone  with  tapers 
from  basement  to  dome.  Night  was  night  in 
those  times.  No  winking,  crawling  electric  signs 

100 


Last  Days  at  Home 

broke  the  darkness.  No  arc  lights  sent  their  cir 
cular  glare  from  street  corners.  Street  lamps 

O  n-fi 

were  lighted  in  the  dark  of  the  moon,  but  at  all 
other  times  the  shadows  were  thick  under  the 
maples  that  bordered  the  wide  Western  streets. 
A  thousand  candles  pricking  the  night  with  their 
yellow  points  gave,  therefore,  a  gala  effect  now 
hard  to  realize. 

A  few  nights  later  the  Lincoln  homestead 
opened  its  doors  to  townsfolk  and  legislators. 
Hundreds  of  men  and  women  streamed  in  at  the 
door  to  shake  Lincoln's  hand.  Many  had  known 
him  as  a  struggling  lawyer ;  still  others  as  store 
keeper  and  surveyor ;  some  even  as  pilot  in  those 
old  days  of  obscurity  already  so  hard  to  credit. 
Not  all  who  shook  his  hand  on  that  night  had 
been  his  well-wishers  during  the  heat  of  the  cam 
paign  ;  but  once  the  issue  was  over,  pride  in  a 
townsman  took  the  place  of  rancor  and  Demo 
crats  vied  with  Republicans  in  crushing  in  at  the 
door.  Among  them  was  a  young  girl  who  a  few 

101 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

days  before  had  penned  in  her  journal,  now 
'yellow  with  age,  these  words:  — 

«  Wednesday  morning  we  heard  of  Mr.  Lin 
coln's  election.  We  are  disappointed,  for  we  had 
hoped  that  such  a  man  as  he,  without  the  least 
knowledge  of  state  affairs,  without  any  polish 
of  manner,  would  not  be  sent  to  be  the  repre 
sentative  of  this  great  nation.  I  tremble  for  our 
country.  I  hope  foreigners  will  not  judge  us  by 
our  head." 

On  the  day  after  the  "  levee  "  the  same  girl 
wrote :  — 

"  We  dressed  for  the  reception.  We  found 
the  house  crowded,  but  did  not  know  any  of 
the  persons,  as  all  of  our  friends  had  been  there 
earlier.  I  had  some  conversation  with  Mrs.  Lin 
coln.  She  was  dressed  in  a  pearl-colored  moire 
antique  and  point  lace.  Mr.  Lincoln  looked 
handsome  to  me.  His  whiskers  are  a  great  im 
provement,  and  he  had  such  a  pleasant  smile  I 
could  not  but  admire  him." 

102 


Last  Days  at  Home 

It  is  good  to  remember  Lincoln  thus  in  the 
hour  of  victory,  clasping  one  by  one  the  hands 
of  his  townsmen  with  that "  pleasant  smile  "  that 
dissolved  prejudice;  good  to  remember  Mary 
Lincoln  in  her  "  moire  antique,"  with  a  "  deli 
cate  vine  arranged  with  much  taste  in  her  hair." 
With  one  of  the  newspaper  correspondents,  let 
us  pronounce  her  truly  "  a  lady  of  fine  figure 
and  accomplished  address." 

There  was,  of  course,  a  procession  to  cele 
brate  the  election,  with  the  usual  oilcloth  capes 
and  flaring  torches.  A  fine  pen  picture  of  Lin 
coln  is  preserved  for  us  in  the  files  of  the  "  Il 
linois  Journal,"  the  newspaper  that  had  sup 
ported  him  so  loyally  and  so  long,  showing  him 
stepping  out  before  his  residence  and  saying,  in 
response  to  the  crowd's  call  for  a  speech :  - 

"  Friends  and  fellow  citizens :  —  Please  ex 
cuse  me  on  this  occasion  from  making  a  speech. 
In  all  our  rejoicing  let  us  neither  express  nor 
cherish  any  harsh  feeling  towards  any  citizen 

103 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

who  by  his  vote  has  differed  from  us.  Let  us  at 
all  times  remember  that  all  American  citizens 
are  brothers  of  a  common  country  and  should 
dwell  together  in  the  bonds  of  fraternal  feeling." 

At  the  same  time  Governor  Yates  was  speak 
ing  down  in  the  town  at  the  "Wigwam,"  the 
rude  building  erected  for  the  political  meetings 
of  the  day.  What  fine,  prophetic  words  his 
were !  "  I  repeat,"  his  words  rang  out,  "  that  so 
firm  is  my  belief  in  the  integrity,  in  the  purity 
of  motives,  in  the  patriotism  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
yea,  I  believe  there  is  a  providence  in  it  [the 
victory!,  and  that  Mr.  Lincoln  is  raised  up  for 
the  crisis  as  Washington  was  raised  up  for  the 
Revolution." 

And  from  all  parts  of  the  old  Wigwam  Lin 
coln*  s  townsmen  cried :  "  So  do  I !  So  do  I ! " 

On  February  1 1 ,  in  the  following  year, 
Lincoln  started  for  Washington.  The  rain  was 
falling  on  the  streets  he  had  known  so  long. 

104 


Last  Days  at  Home 

Through  the  mist  he  could  see  the  State  House 
which  his  early  efforts  had  brought  to  Spring 
field,  the  drug  store  where  he  and  his  friends 
had  played  their  chess  and  cards  together,  the 
court-house  where  he  had  tried  his  cases. 

At  the  station  he  found  a  crowd  of  friends 
who  reached  out  eager  hands  for  a  last  greeting 
as  he  and  his  suite  passed  through  their  midst 
to  the  waiting  train.  He  had  not  planned  to 
address  again  those  who  had  so  often  heard 
his  voice,  but  the  demand  was  so  insistent  that 
he  came  at  last  to  the  rear  platform,  and,  look 
ing  down  into  their  faces,  through  the  rain 
which  was  now  falling  fast,  spoke  «  slowly,  im 
pressively,  and  with  profound  emotion,"  these 
words :  — 

"My  Friends:  —  No  one  not  in  my  situa 
tion  can  appreciate  my  feeling  of  sadness  at  this 
parting.  To  this  place  and  the  kindness  of  these 
people,  I  owe  everything.  Here  I  have  lived 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  and  have  passed  from  a 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

young  to  an  old  man.  Here  my  children  have 
been  born,  and  one  is  buried.  I  now  leave,  not 
knowing  when  or  whether  ever  I  may  return, 
with  a  task  before  me  greater  than  that  which 
rested  upon  Washington.  Without  the  assist 
ance  of  that  Divine  Being  who  ever  attended  him, 
I  cannot  succeed.  With  that  assistance,  I  can 
not  fail.  Trusting  in  Him,  who  can  go  with  me 
and  remain  with  you  and  be  everywhere  for 
good,  let  us  confidently  hope  that  all  will  yet  be 
well.  To  his  care  commending  you,  as  I  hope 
in  your  prayers  you  will  commend  me,  I  bid 
you  an  affectionate  farewell." 

"  We  have  known  Mr.  Lincoln  many  years," 
Simeon  Francis's  newspaper  said  next  day,  «  we 
have  heard  him  speak  on  a  hundred  different 
occasions,  but  we  never  saw  him  so  profoundly 
affected  nor  did  he  ever  utter  an  address  which 
seemed  to  us  so  full  of  simple  and  touching  elo 
quence,  so  exactly  adapted  to  the  occasion,  so 
worthy  of  the  man  and  of  the  hour.  ...  At  pre- 

106 


Last  Days  at  Home 

cisely  eight  o'clock,  city's  time,  the  train  moved 
off  bearing  our  honored  townsman,  our  noble 
chief,  Abraham  Lincoln,  to  the  scenes  of  his 
future  labors  and,  as  we  firmly  believe,  of  his 
glorious  triumph.  God  bless  honest  Abraham 
Lincoln! " 

A  portion  of  the  railroad  station  of  that  day 
still  stands,  doing  duty  for  a  freight  depot. 
Here  the  Daughters  of  the  American  Revolu 
tion  have  placed  a  tablet  recording  Lincoln's 
farewell  to  his  townsmen  —  the  last  words  from 
his  lips  Springfield  was  ever  to  hear.  Let  us  re 
member  them  with  gratitude  and,  as  we  picture 
him  standing  on  the  platform  of  the  car,  the  rain 
falling  with  the  tears  of  those  who  had  known 
him  longest  and  best,  let  us  say  with  the  files 
of  the  old  newspaper:  "God  bless  honest 
Abraham  Lincoln." 


VIII.  The  Funeral 


THE  GRAVE  OF  ANN  RUTLEDGE,  PETERSBURG 


VIII 
THE  FUNERAL 

ILLINOIS  can  lay  no  claim  to  the  next  four 
years  of  Lincoln's  life,  when  he  guided  the  Na 
tion  through  waters  as  shallow  and  past  snags  as 
great  as  those  of  the  Sangamon  up  which  he  had 
once  piloted  the  Talisman.  The  days  of  the  Civil 
War  are  the  Nation's.  They  belong  by  right  to  all 
the  people.  They  are  written  in  characters  im 
perishable,  for  the  world.  To  Illinois,  —  above  all 
to  Springfield,  so  rich  in  intimate  associations, — 
Time  vouchsafed  just  one  more  page  to  the  book 
of  memories.  The  day  of  Lincoln's  burial  was 
hers. 

It  is  May,  '65.  The  season  is  well  advanced ; 
the  heat  already  equals  that  of  midsummer.  On 
every  train,  in  buggies,  on  horseback,  the  crowds 
are  pouring  in  to  Lincoln's  home  town.  The 

iii 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

hotels  are  full.  There  is  not  an  extra  room  to  be 
had  in  the  city.  The  last  cot  is  occupied.  The 
churches,  the  public  halls,  throw  open  their 
doors.  Even  so,  the  streets  are  filled  with  people 
who  can  find  no  place  to  lay  their  heads  all  the 
long  night  through.  A  little  city  often  thousand 
cannot  hope  to  shelter  these  many  delegations 
from  the  army,  from  the  navy,  from  the  bench, 
and  from  the  various  States,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
great  hordes  from  the  farms,  who  have  come  to 
Lincoln's  burial. 

The  shock  of  the  assassination  had  left  the 
nerves  of  the  people  raw  and  quivering,  especially 
here  in  Lincoln's  home  town,  where  so  many 
had  known  him  as  friend,  neighbor,  townsman. 
"  Lincoln  *s  dead  and  I  'm  glad  of  it/1  cried  a 
young  clerk  of  Southern  sympathies,  in  fierce 
allegiance  to  defeated  issues.  He  escaped  only 
with  his  life.  The  Mayor,  on  horseback,  was 
obliged  to  ride  straight  into  the  crowd  to  his  res 
cue.  A  French  workman  in  Alton,  the  Illinois 

112 


The  Funeral 

town  where  Lincoln  and  Douglas  had  held  the 
last  of  their  debates,  did  not  fare  so  well.  When 
he,  too,  expressed  exultation,  his  fellow-work 
men  struck  him  to  the  earth  with  an  iron  bar, 
and  he  was  borne  away  on  a  litter. 

A  boy  named  Edmund  Beal,  who  witnessed 
their  rage,  was  among  the  many  who  poured  into 
Springfield  for  the  funeral.  An  Alton  carpenter 
who  was  to  assist  in  decorating  the  capitol  and 
the  tomb  had  asked  the  boy  to  go  with  him  and 
help  in  the  work.  And  so  it  came  about  that  the 
boy  played  an  important  though  humble  part  in 
making  ready  for  Lincoln's  terrible  home-com 
ing.  He  helped  swathe  the  State  House  in  long 
sable  "  droops  " ;  he  helped  to  construct  the  dais 
where  the  body  was  to  rest  in  state ;  he  worked 
two  long  days  and  one  night  without  stopping, 
building  the  seats  for  the  great  choir  of  three 
hundred  who  were  to  sing  at  the  cemetery.  Be 
cause  he  was  young  and  lithe,  he  was  given  the 
task  of  crawling  out  on  the  roof  of  Lincoln's 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

house  to  shroud  that,  too,  in  black.  The  wo 
man  who  rented  the  house  told  him  that  his 
"droops  "  were  not  well  spaced,  and  in  order  to 
help  him  she  went  to  a  storeroom  where  Lin 
coln's  desk  still  stood,  and  got  him  Lincoln's 
two-foot  rule  for  a  guide.  "  You  may  keep  it," 
she  said,  when  the  task  was  done ;  and  that  rule 
the  boy  treasured  for  years. 

These  preparations  were  all  made  under  pres 
sure,  for  there  had  been  great  uncertainty  where 
Lincoln  was  to  rest.  His  wife  at  last  decided  that 
he  should  lie  in  no  special  plot  of  ground  set 
aside  for  his  glory,  but  in  the  town's  graveyard, 
with  his  friends.  When  at  last  all  was  ready,  the 
boy  with  the  ruler  was  as  tired  from  all  his  work 
as  Lincoln,  at  his  age,  often  and  often  must  have 
been  from  toil.  Many  others  were  equally  weary, 
but  at  last  the  .town  was  ready. 

How  somber  it  looked !  Never  in  all  the  times 
Lincoln  had  pictured  it  while  he  was  in  Washing 
ton  could  he  have  dreamed  of  it  thus ;  of  these 


The  Funeral 

stores  where  he  had  bought  his  meat,  his  bread, 
his  drugs,  looking  now  so  strangely  unfamiliar 
in  their  weeds.  Some  of  them  displayed  cards 
among  the  sable  drapery,  bearing  his  beautiful 
words :  "  With  malice  towards  none ;  with  char 
ity  to  all."  One  merchant  expressed  the  heart  of 
all  the  town  in  his  "  Ours  in  life ;  the  Nation's  in 
death." 

Yes,  theirs  he  had  been,  indeed.  Scarcely  a 
man  in  all  the  countryside  who  did  not  have  some 
personal  memory  of  Lincoln.  Trivial  yet  perti 
nent  things  they  were  that  they  told  to  each  other 
when,  the  great  funeral  train  at  last  having  pulled 
in,  the  poor  corpse  lay  on  its  dais  in  the  Hall  of 
Representatives,  while  the  crowds,  six  abreast, 
poured  into  the  hall  through  all  one  day  and 
night. 

"  I  passed  him  one  day  in  that  vacant  lot  near 
where  the  Wigwam  stood,"  one  man  said.  "It  had 
rained,  then  grown  warm  again,  and  as  we  passed, 
some  corn,  that  grew  there,  crackled  the  way 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

corn  does  in  the  heat.  He  did  not  bow  to  me, 
but  he  said,  with  a  kind  of  funny  smile,  «The 
rain  makes  the  corn  laugh ' ;  and  now,  whenever 
I  hear  corn  crackle  like  that,  I  '11  think  of  him. 
'The  rain  makes  the  corn  laugh/  he  said;  and 
that 's  the  last  word  I  '11  ever  hear  him  say." 

So  they  talked  while  the  hours  passed. 

He  lay  in  state  a  day  and  a  night  in  the  room 
where  he  had  said,  "A  house  divided  against 
itself  cannot  stand." 

"  Peace,  Troubled  Soul,"  the  choir  sang,  as 
he  was  borne  out  of  the  door. 

How  hot  it  was  that  May  day.  Many  and 
many  a  time  he  had  worked  hard  in  the  fields 
under  just  such  a  sky ;  many  a  time  he  had  cam 
paigned  in  that  same  pitiless  heat.  On  days  as 
hot  he  had  ridden  the  circuit,  as  "  Bob,"  his  old 
family  horse,  could  testify ;  "  Bob,"  who  was 
now  being  led  in  the  funeral  train,  covered  with 
a  mantle,  escorted  by  grooms ! 

The  band  strikes  into  the  «  Dead  March,"  the 

116 


The  Funeral 

plumes  on  the  hearse,  the  flags  and  the  banners, 
move  in  the  faint  breeze.  The  crowds  push  and 
stare  as  the  great  procession  winds  down  the 
streets.  General  Hooker  heads  the  military  es 
cort,  his  face  as  red  as  an  Indian's.  Among  the 
pallbearers  we  see  Judge  Logan,  once  Lincoln's 
law  partner,  always  his  loyal  friend,  the  man 
who  had  hated  to  change  his  vote  from  Lincoln 
to  Trumbull  for  Senator  long  years  before. 

Among  the  relatives  sits  Judge  Davis,  the 
man  who  sat  as  circuit  judge  in  the  days  when 
Lincoln  followed  the  court.  No  man  knew  Lin 
coln  better  than  he. 

The  delegations  of  the  States  are  passing. 
The  crowds  point  out  Oglesby,  twice  governor 
of  Illinois.  It  was  Oglesby  who  had  had  the  in 
spiration  to  bring  those  rails  into  the  Chicago 
Convention,  with  "The  rail-splitter  candidate 
for  President" — a  slogan  that  in  1860  did 
much  to  elect  Lincoln. 

The  strains  of  the  music  have  grown  faint. 

117 


Lincoln  in  Illinois 

The  procession  nears  the  cemetery.  There  is  a 
choir  there,  too,  and  there  are  speeches  and 
prayers  and  a  sermon  by  the  great  Methodist 
bishop,  Simpson,  of  Philadelphia,  the  man  who 
had  stirred  the  crowds  during  the  war  by  his 
wonderful  lecture,  "Our  Country." 

At  last  they  can  do  no  more —  choirs,  bands, 
nor  speech-makers.  The  crowds  surge  home, 
clamber  into  special  trains,  climb  into  their 
wagons  and  drive  homeward  over  the  prairie 
roads.  As  the  sun  sinks,  thirty-six  guns  are  fired. 
Such  was  Lincoln's  home-coming  in  '65. 

They  built  a  great  monument  over  his  last  rest 
ing-place.  Four  groups  of  statuary,  bristling  with 
guns  and  bayonets,  start  from  the  four  corners 
of  the  shaft.  Above  them  stands  the  figure  of 
Lincoln,  erect  and  strong,  —  the  statesman  of  a 
troubled  day.  Thus  the  sculptor,  thus  the  public, 
of  the  early  seventies  saw  Lincoln.  And  that  it 
was  Lincoln,  and  Lincoln  at  his  height,  we  shall 

118 


V. 


THE  LINCOLN  MONUMENT  IN  SPRINGFIELD 


The  Funeral 

not  deny.  But  there  are  other  Lincolns,  not  to 
be  forgotten,  —  enshrined  forever  in  the  heart 
of  Illinois.  The  men  who  knew  him  best,  and 
the  children  of  those  men,  see  the  young  river- 
man  at  the  wheel,  bringing  the  steamboat  up 
the  stream  that  never  again  proved  navigable ; 
recall  the  young  lawyer  "  taking  the  chair  "  at 
many  a  public  meeting  as  if  by  natural  right ;  re 
member  with  affection  a  homely  figure  in  linen 
duster,  a  boy  trotting  on  either  side ;  picture  the 
orator  rising  on  rude  platforms  in  prairie  towns, 
raising  his  voice  in  shrill  falsetto  over  vast  crowds 
to  denounce  the  spread  of  slavery.  And  these 
Lincolns,  that  presaged  the  final  man,  sleep  too 
under  these  stones. 


THE    END 


CAMBRIDGE  •  MASSACHUSETTS 
U  •    S  •  A 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


lODeceoJ^^ 

jrtN  10  1961 

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REC'D  LD 

FEB18  1961 

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